I signed it and had a copy sent to Isabella. I would deliver a copy to my father personally. This insane vendetta was finished. I ended it as one of the two things I did during my hours-long rule over the Benedetti family before I gave everything—the reign, the rule, the power—over to Roman.
It was another week before I could move back upstairs to my own bedroom and another month before I was fully healed. All that time, Lucia stayed with me, caring for me like I didn’t remember ever being cared for by anyone apart from my mother.
I also saw Natalie and Jacob. She came to give me the news she too was moving away, along with her parents. She didn’t trust anyone but me, and with Roman now taking over and Dominic somewhere out there, she didn’t feel safe. She promised to keep in touch with me, though, and I let her go, let her take my nephew with her. I would miss them. It was another piece of Sergio that was gone, but I knew part of him would always be with me, no matter what.
As far as the house, it turned out I didn’t have to put it on the market. An anonymous buyer bought it outright, furnished, within hours of my talking to a real-estate agent. We needed to be out within two weeks. I let Rainey go with a hefty bonus to tide her over until she found work. I didn’t need to worry about Marco. He would go to work for my uncle. Lucia and I simply had to pack up our personal things, and we were free to truly walk away.
Those last two weeks in the house were strangely more bitter than sweet. Lucia would go to Florida, where her sister had already gone with Effie, while Luke took care of the selling of their house. I hadn’t yet decided what I would do. I couldn’t think about it for some reason. And I still had one more person to see before I could close this long chapter of my life.
“Can we take the Bugatti?” Lucia asked, a glint in her eye when we got to the garage.
“No.” That was my baby, and she was insisting on driving ‘considering my injuries.’ “We can take the BMW.”
She pouted but picked up the keys.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you driving it,” I started, “although I don’t. But the less bumpy the ride, the better.”
“My driving is just fine.”
“We’ll see.”
“You nervous?” she asked.
“About your driving?” I joked, but I knew what she meant.
She only glanced at me as she pulled out of the garage.
“Not nervous, just want it over. I know he’s my father, and maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t feel anything close to love for him.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
I thought about it. “For being a complete and utter failure where it counted?”
She shrugged a shoulder, but her gaze was serious. “Regret sucks, Salvatore.”
I knew she still had some of that.
“I actually have, I think. The way he’s chosen to live his life—well, look at him. He’s alone. He’ll die alone. Roman will be there for him, but not us. I don’t feel any anger toward him anymore. It’s like it’s sated or something. Not because I’m happy he’s alone. I’m not. But he made his bed, and I’m making my peace. It’s all I can do.”
“You’re good, Salvatore.”
Once we reached my father’s house, I climbed out of the car. I held the envelope containing the new contract. It was symbolic, nothing else, but it was necessary for closure.
“Ready?”
Lucia wound her arm through mine. We’d gotten used to each other’s company, but when she did things like this, touching me like this, it still felt strange, special. It made my heartbeat quicken.
“You don’t have to go in there.” I watched her; she watched the house.
“I want to be there with you, Salvatore,” she said, turning to me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
We both took a deep breath and walked up the stairs and to the large, foreboding double doors. I rang the bell, and Roman opened the door, expecting us.
“Morning,” he said, quickly hiding his surprise at seeing Lucia.
“Morning.”
“Come in. He’s waiting for you in the study.” I nodded and took a step. Roman put his hand on my shoulder.
“Should I keep Lucia company—”
“No, thank you,” I said, tucking her arm tighter to me.
He stepped back. “I’m glad you came.”
I nodded, and we moved forward, neither of us speaking. Knocking once on the study door, I pushed it open, not expecting to find what I found. I heard Lucia’s gasp, but I had schooled my face for so many years that masking my surprise came more easily than I thought it would.
“Salvatore,” my father said after glancing at Lucia on my arm.