CHAPTER 76: FIGHTING BACK TOGETHER (PART IV)

The fire had burned through the night, leaving the sky over the docks thick with black smoke. By morning, all that remained of Matteo’s last stand was ash, twisted metal, and silence. Yet in that silence, Aria and Luca stood shoulder to shoulder, their hearts beating in time with the low rumble of the city that still breathed beneath the ruin.

They didn’t speak for a long while. The men had gone to tend to the wounded, to clean what was left, but neither Aria nor Luca moved. It was as if leaving this place meant acknowledging everything that had just happened, that Matteo was gone, that blood had once again paid the price for loyalty, and that their fragile dream of peace had been scorched to the ground.

Finally, Aria broke the silence. "You had no choice," she said quietly, though her voice trembled.

Luca didn’t look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the flames dying out over the water. "That’s the lie we tell ourselves, isn’t it? That we never have a choice."

She turned to face him, her torn dress fluttering in the wind. "You chose to protect me. That’s not a lie."

His jaw clenched. "And Matteo was still my brother."

Aria took a deep breath, stepping closer. "He made his choices too, Luca. Choices that cost lives. Choices that would’ve taken mine."

He looked at her then really looked and for the first time since the chaos began, she saw the boy beneath the Don. The one who carried the weight of every decision, every death, as though the world had carved them into his skin.

"I killed the only family I had left," he said, voice low.

Aria reached up, her fingers tracing the side of his face, rough with stubble and soot. "No," she whispered. "You still have one. It’s just different now."

Something shifted in his eyes then, the grief didn’t vanish, but it softened, tempered by the quiet certainty in her touch. He exhaled slowly, the air between them charged with everything they hadn’t said.

"Come with me," he murmured. "I don’t want to stay here another second."

They walked through the wreckage together, boots crunching over debris and glass, until they reached the waiting car. The city passed by in a blur of gray and gold as the sun broke through the haze. Aria leaned her head against the window, watching the reflections of light ripple across the streets that once terrified her, streets that now belonged to her as much as to Luca.

At the mansion, the mood was somber. Guards moved quietly, whispers echoing through the halls. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, but the house felt colder somehow, heavier. When they entered the grand hall, Enzo was waiting with reports, his usual confidence dimmed.

"It’s done," he said. "Matteo’s men have either fled or surrendered. The city’s watching, though. They’ll want to know what happens next."

Luca nodded once. "Let them watch. We rebuild, we stabilize. No more chaos."

Aria spoke before he could turn away. "And no more secrets. We rebuild differently this time."

Enzo looked between them, then smiled faintly. "Understood." He left them alone.

The moment the door closed, Luca’s shoulders sagged. The exhaustion finally broke through. He sat down on the edge of the grand staircase, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. Aria hesitated for only a moment before joining him.

She sat beside him in silence, fingers brushing his. The house creaked faintly, the faint hum of the city outside a reminder that life, somehow, went on.

After a while, Luca spoke. "When I was a kid, Matteo used to tell me we’d rule everything one day. That we’d never have to bow to anyone. I believed him. Every word."

Aria smiled softly, sad and knowing. "And now you do rule everything. But not the way you expected."

He huffed a quiet laugh, looking up at the chandelier above them, the same one that had once lit their engagement dinner, their fights, their reconciliations. "No. Not the way I expected."

Her gaze lingered on him. "Do you regret it?"

He turned his head, eyes finding hers. "Do you?"

She thought of all that had happened, her father’s death, her mother’s secret, Matteo’s betrayal, and the endless trail of blood that had brought them here. And yet, despite it all, she didn’t hesitate. "No. Because it brought me to you."

He reached for her hand then, threading his fingers through hers. His grip was firm, grounding. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured.

"Maybe not," she teased softly, "but you’re stuck with me anyway."

He smiled then, a small, tired, genuine smile that melted the last of the tension in the room.

They sat there for a while longer, wordless, until Aria leaned her head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her close. The smell of smoke still clung to both of them, but beneath it, she could smell him, warm, familiar, safe.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft. "We have to face what’s coming. My mother’s family, the other syndicates... they’ll come for me. For us."

"I know."

"And when they do?"

He tilted his head, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Then we show them exactly who they’re dealing with."

Her heart ached at his words, not from fear, but from pride. They had come so far from that first night, from the contract that bound them and the distrust that nearly destroyed them. What they had now wasn’t fragile. It was forged in fire.

The sound of rain began again, soft against the windows. Aria stood and reached for his hand. "Come on," she said, a spark of mischief lighting her tired eyes.

He raised a brow. "Where?"

"To start over," she said simply. "Just for a night."

He followed her upstairs, to the room they once fought in, laughed in, and loved in. The moment the door closed behind them, the world outside ceased to exist.

Aria turned to face him, the flicker of lightning casting pale light across her face. For a long heartbeat, they just stared, the air between them charged, heavy, alive. Then Luca stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands.

"Tell me this isn’t a dream," he whispered.

She smiled faintly. "If it is, don’t wake me."

He kissed her slowly at first, reverent, as if memorizing the feel of her lips. The kiss deepened, years of pain and love unraveling in a single breath. She melted into him, fingers clutching at his shirt, needing to feel he was real.

Clothes fell away, but what replaced them wasn’t just passion. It was healing. Every touch said what words couldn’t that they were still here, still alive, still theirs despite the chaos.

When it was over, they lay tangled in the sheets, the storm fading outside. Luca’s hand rested on her waist, thumb tracing idle circles against her skin.

"Do you ever think we’ll have peace?" she asked quietly.

He thought for a moment, then smiled against her shoulder. "Maybe not the kind others have. But ours? It’ll be loud, messy, and full of fire. And I’ll take that over quiet lies any day."

Aria laughed softly, tears pricking her eyes. "Then I’ll take it too."

He turned her toward him, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Whatever happens next," he murmured, "we face it together."

Her gaze softened. "Together."

Outside, the storm finally broke, leaving only the sound of dripping rain and the distant hum of the city rebuilding itself.

It wasn’t peace, not yet. But it was love. Real, fragile, defiant love. And as Luca drifted into sleep beside her, Aria lay awake for a while longer, staring at the ceiling, her hand resting over his heart.

Tomorrow would bring more battles. More secrets. More tests. But tonight, they had survived.

And for the first time in a long time, that felt like victory.