Page 249 of Rosetti Family New York
She shifts against me, her breath warm on my skin. "What time is it?"
I check the clock. "Almost ten."
"Late," she murmurs, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
"We deserved the rest."
Her hand slides up my chest, tracing the tattoo over my heart. The one that marks me as a Rosetti. As a killer.
"I keep thinking about what Ethan said," she says, her voice more alert now. "About Maddy finding out they were using her accounts."
I run my fingers through her hair, gentle in a way I'm still getting used to. "She wasn't part of it. Not willingly."
"No," Sloane agrees. "She was trying to stop it."
The weight that's been crushing her since Maddy died seems lighter today. Not gone—it may never be gone—but different. Shared.
"She was brave," I tell her. "Like someone else I know."
This time, she smiles, small but real.
"What happens now?" she asks, propping herself up on one elbow to look at me.
I trace the line of her jaw, still not quite believing she's real. That she's mine.
"We find out who got her involved."
"And then?" There's no judgment in her voice. Just certainty.
"Then they pay."
She nods, accepting this part of me, this world she's stepped into. "I want to help."
"There are parts of this life you don't need to see, Sloane."
"I've already seen plenty."
We lie there, quiet for a moment. The mansion hums around us, alive with secrets and power.
"Nanna called," I say finally. "She wants us for dinner tonight."
Sloane sits up, the sheet pooling around her waist. "Us? As in, you and me?"
"Yeah."
"That's... that's a big deal, isn't it?"
I nod, watching her process this. After everything, Ethan's confession, the rooftop, the way she's seen right through to the core of me, a family dinner shouldn't feel significant. But it is.
"No one's ever taken me to meet their family before," she says.
The vulnerability in her voice makes my chest tighten. I sit up beside her, pulling her close.
"Rosettis are different," I warn her. "Louder. More dangerous."
"I've handled you so far."
I laugh, surprising myself. "That's debatable."
