Page 94 of Beneath the Shadows

I’m finally free. Building a future here feels like a real possibility.

Later that evening, after the sun dips below the horizon, I leave Rosie’s house and take a slow walk back to my apartment. Once home, I flip through the photos I’ve taken, each one capturing a moment of beauty, a reminder of why I fell in love with photography in the first place.

There’s one photo of a couple holding hands as they walk through the park, their fingers intertwined with quiet intimacy. The trees around them are bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon. Their heads are close together, sharing a secret known only to them. The world around them is blurred, softened, as if nothing else matters but this moment.

Another photo is of the river, its surface like a mirror reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunset, orange, pink, purple, melding into one another as the sun touches the horizon. The trees along the riverbank stand in sharp contrast, dark silhouettes against the glowing sky. The water is so still it gives the illusion that the river and the sky are one, a seamless expanse of calm.

And then there’s the one of Rosie, caught mid-laugh, her face bright with pure joy. Her head is tilted back as if she’s letting the happiness spill out. The sparkle in her eyes is infectious making it impossible not to smile while looking at it.

I linger on that last photo, a swell of emotion rising in my chest. Rosie’s given me more than just a job and a place to stay—she’s given me a sense of family, of belonging.

After I upload several of the photos and email them to the gallery, I close my laptop. I can’t help but smile. This town, these people. It feels like I belong here. Like I’m home.

But as much as I want to embrace this new life, there’s a part of me that’s holding back. A voice whispers not to get too comfortable. I know the dangers of letting my guard down. My past could still creep back in when I least expect it.

Still, Magnolia Springs has given me something precious—a chance at happiness. And for now, that’s enough.

Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and do it all over again. I’ll serve coffee and pancakes, chat with Rosie and the regulars, and continue capturing the beauty of this town that’s become my sanctuary.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll start to believe that this new life is really mine to keep.

Antonio

“Cecilia took her to the bus stop and let her go?” Dante asks, disbelief lacing his tone.

“Yes.” The edge in my voice betrays my frustration, and my knee bounces uncontrollably. “And I wouldn’t have given a damn if Draco hadn’t made that ultimatum.”

“What are you going to do?” Dante presses, his eyes narrowing as he studies me.

“I can’t afford to make an enemy out of Draco Moretti. I’m running on fumes here.” I lean back, letting my head fall against the seat. “I don’t have a choice. I have to find Alessia and marry her.”

“Any clue where she might be?”

“None.” I exhale sharply. “Alessia promised Cecilia she’d call once she settled somewhere, but she never did.”

“You checked her phone?”

“Of course I did. There’s nothing,” I say, my voice flat.

“She can’t have gone far.”

Dante leans back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the plan?”

I rub my temples, trying to ease the pounding in my skull. "I wish I had a damn clue."

The truth is, part of me wouldn’t have cared if Alessia had just disappeared. If she’d started over somewhere far away where this life couldn’t touch her. Hell, after everything she’s been through, she deserves at least that much.

But Draco’s ultimatum changes everything. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a threat. A reminder that he’d sacrifice anything, including his daughter’s happiness, if it means securing more power.

If I let Alessia slip away, Draco will back out of our alliance and may become a threat to my family. I can’t let that happen, not when the dust hasn’t fully settled from the chaos Valentino caused.

Keeping the peace is all that matters, and if marrying Alessia is the price I have to pay, then so be it. I’ll search every corner of the globe until I find her and bring her back—bring her home, to be mine. Whether either of us likes it or not.

“Do you really think she’ll come back without a fight?” Dante breaks into my thoughts.

A bitter laugh escapes. “Does it matter? She doesn’t have a choice. Neither of us does.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “I’ll drag her back kicking and screaming if I have to.”

Dante nods, but there’s something in his eyes—pity, maybe? I don’t need it. I don’t want it.

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