Villa Vows

"No." He holstered his gun. "They were not here for us. I think. A rival. Targeting the families."

"Which one?" I asked. Not that it mattered. Violence was violence. From any side.

"Does it matter?" He leaned against the wall beside me. "We are alive."

"Yes." I took a breath. Let it out slow. "Alive."

Silence. Then Cruz made a sound. Low. Rough. Almost a laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"Your father. He will be furious. His perfect wedding. Ruined."

I looked at him. In the dim light, I saw his face. A smile. Real. Unexpected.

I laughed too. A short, surprised sound. "He will blame me. Somehow."

"Of course." Cruz chuckled. "It is always the woman's fault. In this world."

"Always." I shook my head. "What a mess."

"A beautiful mess." He touched my hand. Light. Quick. "We survived it together."

I looked at him. This man. My fiancé. Cold. Controlled. But he had shielded me. Pulled me to safety. His hand was warm on mine.

"Yes," I said. "Together."

We stayed in the shed. Talking. Low voices. Sharing stories. Of our lives. Our families. All the expectations. The desire for escape.

He told me of his brother. Dead in a hit. I told him of my mother. Gone when I was small. We found common ground. In loss. In longing.

Hours passed. The light through the cracks faded. Night fell.

Cruz checked outside. "Clear. We can go back."

We walked to the villa. Slow. Quiet. The garden was still. Empty. No sign of the chaos.

Inside, the villa was quiet too. Guards stood at doors. Tense. Alert.

My father found us. "Caterina! Where were you?" He grabbed my arms. Hard.

"The gardens," I said. "We hid. When the shooting started."

"Smart girl." He hugged me. Quick. Rough. "You are safe. Good."

He looked at Cruz. "You kept her safe. Thank you."

Cruz inclined his head. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" My father snorted. "You saved my daughter. That is not nothing."

Cruz said nothing. Just watched. Calm. Cool again. The mask back in place.

But I had seen beneath it. In the shed. In the dark. I had seen the man. Not the underboss. Not the danger. The man who laughed. Who touched my hand. Who understood.

We parted. Went to our rooms. The wedding was postponed. Of course. The families needed to regroup. To plan.

I lay in bed. Tired. But not sleepy. My mind spun. With the attack. With Cruz. With the new thing between us. Fragile. Unvoiced. But there.

Tomorrow was another day. Another step. Toward what? I did not know. But for the first time, it felt like more than duty. More than a cage. It felt like...possibility.

The villa felt different after the attack. Guards doubled. Tension crackled in the air. But in my room, at night, it was quiet. Too quiet.

I lay in bed. Staring at the ceiling. Sleep would not come. My mind spun. With the attack. With Cruz. With the new thing between us.

A soft knock at the door. I sat up. Listened. It came again. I got out of bed. Went to the door. Opened it a crack.

Cruz stood there. Hair rumpled. Shirt open at the neck. "Caterina," he said. Voice low. "May I come in?"

I opened the door wider. He stepped inside. I closed it. Leaned against it. "What is it? What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." He ran a hand through his hair. "I could not sleep. I thought...perhaps you could not either."

"I could not." I moved away from the door. "The quiet is loud tonight."

"Yes." He walked to the window. Looked out. "The guards are everywhere. But it does not feel safe. Not anymore."

"No." I stood beside him. "Safety is an illusion. In this life."

He turned. Looked at me. His eyes were dark. Intense. "You said you want out. After the wedding."

"I do." I held his gaze. "I have skills. I can find work. Away from this."

He nodded. "I have thought about it too. Leaving. But it is not easy. The family. The ties."

"They are chains." I touched his arm. Light. Quick. "We could break them. Together."

"Together." He covered my hand with his. "Is that what you want? With me?"

"I..." I hesitated. "I do not know. This is...new. What is between us."

"It is." He stepped closer. "But it feels...real. More real than anything else here."

"Yes." I looked up at him. "It does."

He touched my face. Light. Gentle. "Caterina," he murmured.

"Cat-er-ina," I corrected. Soft. Teasing.

He smiled. "Cat-er-ina." He said it slow. Careful. "Better?"

"Better." I leaned into his touch. "Cruz."

"Cr-oo-z." He played with my name. "Not Crew-z."

I laughed. Quiet. Soft. "No. Not Crew-z."

"Caterina," he said again. Properly this time. "Beautiful."

"Cruz," I whispered.

He bent his head. Kissed me. Light. Tentative. A question.

I answered. Kissed him back. Soft. Searching.

He pulled me closer. Deepened the kiss. It turned consuming. Hungry. Full of pent-up need.

I wound my arms around his neck. Pulled him down. He backed me toward the bed. We fell onto it. Tangled together. Kissing. Touching. Breathing hard.

A noise outside. Sharp. Close. We froze.

Cruz lifted his head. Listened. Tense. Alert. "Guards," he murmured. "Patrolling."

I nodded. My heart hammered. Not just from fear. From him. From this.

He rolled off me. Sat up. Ran a hand through his hair. "I should go. It is not safe. For you. If they find me here."

"I know." I sat up too. Smoothed my nightgown. "But I do not want you to."

He touched my face again. "I do not want to either." He stood. "But I must."

I stood too. Walked him to the door. "Tomorrow," I said. "We will talk. About...after."

"Yes." He kissed me. Quick. Hard. "Tomorrow."

He opened the door. Checked the hall. Slipped out. Closed the door behind him.

I leaned against it. Breathless. My lips tingled. My body hummed. With him. With the promise of more.

The noise came again. Outside. Guards. But inside, in my room, in my heart, it was just me. And Cruz. And the new world we had found. Together.

The next morning brought new tension. The families gathered. In the same salon. But the mood was different. Darker. Anger simmered beneath polished surfaces.

My father paced. "This attack. It cannot go unanswered. We must show strength. Unity."

Cruz's father nodded. "Agreed. The wedding must proceed. Soon. To show our alliance is strong."

Cruz stood by the window. Back straight. Face blank. But I saw the tightness in his shoulders. The anger in his eyes. He said nothing. Yet.

My father turned to me. "Caterina. You will do your part. For the family. As always."

I lifted my chin. "I have always done my part. But I am not a pawn. To be moved on your board."

"You are a Moroni." His voice was hard. Cold. "You will do as you are told. For the good of the family."

I looked at Cruz. He met my eyes. Something passed between us. Understanding. Defiance.

"The wedding will be tomorrow," Cruz's father said. "We will not let our enemies see weakness."

My father nodded. "Tomorrow." He looked at me. "Be ready. And behave. Or face the consequences."

They left. Cruz and I were alone. The salon felt big. Empty. With just us.

He came to me. Touched my arm. "Are you all right?"

"No." I pulled away. "I am not all right. They treat me like a child. Like property."

"I know." He sighed. "They test us. Our loyalty. To them. Or to each other."

"They want us to choose," I said. "Family over this. Over us."

"Yes." He took my hand. Held it tight. "What do you choose, Caterina? If you could?"

I looked at him. This man. My fiancé. My...what? I did not know. But I knew what I wanted. "I choose freedom. With you. Away from this."

He squeezed my hand. "I choose that too. But it will not be easy. They will not let us go. Not without a fight."

"I know." I leaned into him. Rested my head on his chest. "But we have to try. Don't we?"

"Yes." He kissed my hair. "We have to try."

We stood like that. Together. Against the world. Against our families. For a moment, it felt possible. Freedom. A life. Together.

But reality intruded. A guard entered. "Signor Bianchi. Your father wishes to speak with you. In his office."

Cruz sighed. "Duty calls." He touched my face. "Later. We will talk. Plan."

I nodded. "Later."

He left. I watched him go. My heart tight. With fear. With hope. With love? I did not know. But it was something. Something strong.

I asked a maid to bring tea to my room. I needed to think. To plan. The girl brought it. Hot. Steam rose from the cup. I held it. But did not drink. My mind was elsewhere. On Cruz. On escape. On the life we could have. If we were brave enough to take it.