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“It’s yours,” she gasps, nails raking my neck. “All yours.”

I flip her onto her back, pinning her down, and drive in deep, relentless. The couch shakes, her legs hook around me, pulling me closer, and she’s moaning my name, loud and wild. I lean in, voice rough against her ear.

“We’re done hiding from it. Sophia’s gone, and it fucking hurts, but this—you and me—it’s real. I’m not drowning in guilt anymore. I’m choosing you.”

Her eyes lock on mine. “I choose you too. No more running. I love you,” she blurts, mid-thrust, her voice breaking, eyes locked on mine.

I freeze. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she says, voice breaking, raw. “Fuck, I love you.” I thrust harder, claiming her, and she arches, gasping.

“I love you too,” I growl, kissing her deep, tasting her truth. “You’re mine, Penelope. Forever.”

She shatters, crying out and I spill inside her, groaning, and so spent. We collapse, tangled, her fingers in my hair, my lips on her neck.

She laughs, breathless. “Think the neighbors heard that?”

“Worth it. I love fucking you.”

“You’re gonna get me evicted with all that noise.”

A curve appears on my face and I nip her ear. “Let ‘em. Next time, I’ll gag you.”

“Promises, promises,” she shoots back, grinning, and I laugh and feel like the weight’s gone. Sophia’s ghost isn’t choking me anymore. It’s just us now, messy and real.

I lie there, her heartbeat thudding against mine, and think about how life’s a brutal fucking joke. You build walls, wield power, spill blood, and it still strips you bare. I used to think love was a trap, a weakness I’d never survive. Now I see it’s the only thing worth the fight.

Penelope’s not my redemption, she is my reckoning. A truth I can’t outrun, and for once, I don’t want to. This is us, scars and all, and I’ll kill to keep it. That’s my reality: she’s the fire I’ll burn for, and I’m done pretending otherwise.

Chapter 18

Penelope

I trudge home from Caruso’s, my legs heavy and aching. My keys jingle in my hand as I climb the steps to my apartment, the weight of the day clinging to me as I shove the door open, kick it shut, and toss my bag on the couch. Something feels off, though.

I step toward the kitchen, rubbing my neck, and freeze. The window’s cracked open with the curtains fluttering softly. I know I locked it this morning, I know my scatterbrain’s bad, but not that bad. My pulse kicks up and I grab the knife from the counter, my fingers tightening around the handle. I edge back into the living room, eyes darting, when a shadow shifts near the couch.

“Who’s there?” I snap, voice calm despite the tremor in my hands. The shadow steps forward, and blonde hair catches the light, all wild, tangled, framing a face I don’t really know but feel like I should. Then I remember. She was the lady I saw in his apartment the other day. Charlotte Holden. Henry’s daughter. Adriano’s ex-fiancée. Her eyes are wide, glassy, and she’s holding a gun, the barrel shaking as she points it at me.

“You bitch,” she hisses, stepping closer, her voice splintering. “You ruined my fucking life.”

I stumble back, my hip smacking the coffee table, pain spiking hot. “Charlotte, what the fuck? Put that down!”

She laughs, a high, shattered sound, tears streaming fast down her face. “No! You don’t get it! Nobody wants me. Nobody! First Ethan, that bastard. I loved him, gave him everything. My dad warned me, said he was a gold-digging piece of shit, but I didn’t listen. Ran off with him anyway. Then he robbed me blindone night, took my money, my dad’s too, and vanished. Left me with nothing!”

“Charlotte, I—” I start, knife still up, but she cuts me off, sobbing harder, the gun shaking wild.

“Shut up! I thought Adriano would fix it. Marrying him was my way out, my chance to take something back. He was fine with it, you know? Ready to put a ring on me, build a life. Then you came back, you little teenaged whore, and he wouldn’t even look at me! I’ve been throwing myself at him, begging, crying, fucking seducing him and he’s too busy screwing you to care!”

“Charlotte, wait...”

“Don’t act stupid. You took him. Adriano was mine—mine—until you came along and fucked it all!”

I see her unraveling, mascara streaking black rivers down her cheeks. “He didn’t want you,” I say, slow and firm, my nails digging into the knife handle. “That’s not on me. You’re losing it. Back off!”

She swings the gun wide, tears choking her voice. “Losing it? I’m lost! My dad hates me now, he says I’m a disgrace, a failure. Nobody wants me! Why? What’s wrong with me? Adriano but I know what can fix it. Maybe if I kill you, he’ll see me again, want me again!”

I duck as she lunges, tackling her low, my shoulder jamming into her gut. We crash to the floor, the impact rattling my teeth, and the gun skids across the tiles, clattering loud. I scramble for it, fingers brushing the weapon, but she grabs my hair, pulling hard enough to burn my scalp.

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