Page 109 of Made for Sinners

And the knowledge that everything was about to change.

Because now we had a name.

Now we had a face.

And Rocco Conti had no idea what was coming for him.

27

DANTE

She exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years.

The moment Emilia finished telling me everything—about Rocco, about the photo, about the day in her father’s office—it was like watching a storm finally break. Her shoulders dropped. Her jaw unclenched. The tension that had been coiled in her body since the gala began slowly unraveled, thread by thread, until she was just… breathing.

And I hated that I hadn’t noticed it sooner.

I hated that she’d been carrying that weight alone, while I’d been too distracted, too wrapped up in my own suspicions and anger to see what was right in front of me.

She trusted me with the truth. And I’d failed to give her the same in return.

The car hummed beneath us, the city lights casting shifting shadows across her face as we sped through the streets. She was quiet now, staring out the window, her fingers resting lightly on her lap. But I could still feel the echo of her words in the air between us.

Rocco.

The betrayal was a slow burn in my chest, but right now, it wasn’t the fire that had my attention.

It was her.

I reached over, my hand finding hers, and she turned to look at me, her expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low. “For not seeing it. For not listening. For making you feel like you were on your own.”

Her eyes searched mine, and for a second, I thought she might look away. But she didn’t.

“You’re not the only one who missed it,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize it was him until tonight.”

“Still,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “You trusted me with it. And I’ll make it right.”

She gave me a small, tired smile. “You already are.”

That should’ve been enough. But it wasn’t.

I wanted to do more. I needed to do more.

“I know we didn’t exactly have a honeymoon,” I said, my tone shifting, lighter now, but still edged with something real. “But once this is over—once we deal with Rocco—I want to take you to Italy. Just us. No business. No family. Just you, me, and a villa with a view.”

She raised a brow, amused. “Even if someone outbids us tonight?”

I smirked. “Especially if someone outbids us. I’ll buy the whole damn vineyard if I have to.”

She laughed, and the sound hit me square in the chest. It was the first time she’d really laughed all night, and I wanted to bottle it. Keep it. Live in it.

“Good,” she said, her voice dipping into something sultry, teasing. “Then when we get home, you can get on your knees and start making it up to me.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened, and I turned to her with a slow, dangerous grin.

“Oh, princess,” I said, my voice dropping to a growl. “You say that like it’s a punishment.”

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