And that terrified me more than hatred ever could.
My only hope was Vanya.
Our son bound us.
She could not leave him behind. And I would never let her leave me—not truly, not permanently.
I would kneel if I had to. Beg. Crawl. I could endure her contempt. I could endure her silence. But her absence—
That would kill me.
I was lost in that thought, staring at the dead fountain, watching algae ripple faintly across stagnant water, when footsteps crunched over the gravel behind me.
“Boss.”
I sat upright, spine snapping straight as if struck. Giovanni stood a respectful distance away, shoulders squared, face drained of color. I knew before he spoke.
My body knew.
“What is it?”
He swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed once. “She’s gone.”
The words landed without sound. Without meaning.
The world tilted sideways, the garden blurring at the edges as if someone had struck me hard in the chest.
“What do you mean,” I said slowly, dangerously, “she’s gone?”
“Penelope left Lake Como,” Giovanni continued, voice tight. “With Vanya. Ruslan Baranov helped her.”
For a moment, I simply stared at him. The sentence refused to arrange itself into sense. Then—
Rage detonated.
I surged to my feet and grabbed Giovanni by the collar, hauling him forward until our faces were inches apart. “How could you let that happen?”
“She said she wanted to take Vanya for a walk in the gardens,” he rushed out, panic cracking through his discipline. “She told the guards to stand down. Said it was safe. Normal. I didn’t know—”
“Wait.” My grip tightened, fingers biting into fabric and skin. “She left with Vanya?”
Giovanni nodded. Once. Mutely.
The fury drained out of me in a single, violent rush—replaced by something worse.
I released him slowly. My legs buckled.
I staggered backward, caught myself on the iron bench, then sank onto it hard.
The garden spun. The sky pressed down. Everything I had built—the power, the victories, the fragile hope that she might one day turn toward me—collapsed in a single breath.
Giovanni lunged forward, hands out. “Boss—”
I shoved him away and forced myself upright, though my knees shook beneath me.
My fists clenched until skin split over bone.
I welcomed the pain.