“No, Dolcezza. No. I wouldn’t be capable of that. I think I never was—that I’ve always been lying to myself…”
She began to cry softly, clinging to me, until she managed to say, “I don’t want a single chapter of my life without you.” That surprised me and shattered me in equal measure. “I want you to be in every one, until the very end.”
I peppered her head with kisses, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Our parting was inevitable. “I’m sorry, Piccola Furetta, but I’m afraid I cannot grant that wish.”
She sat up as if my words had electrocuted her. I wiped her tears away with my thumb. “What are you talking about, Camillo?”
I smiled, feeling all my pain pour into the gesture. “It was because of me that Accorinti captured you, and if we hadn’t found you in time, you might not be here anymore,” I confessed, speaking through the lump in my throat. “This world is too dangerous, and I’m not willing to risk your life again.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“I know you’re brave. I know you’re willing to face anything, Piccola Furetta. But I’m not,” I admitted, watching her face crumple as she began to sob.
“Camillo, please. Don’t do this. I—”
“Dolcezza. You don’t belong in this world, and the only way I leave it is in a casket.” I cut her off, my voice trembling withsadness. I squeezed her hands tightly. “This ring…” I murmured, lifting her left hand slightly. “It belonged to Rosa Vicari. After her, it was passed down to every woman in my famiglia. It was the first peridot we mined from our lands. It’s not just any ring. It’s the engagement ring given to the wife of the first Vicari man to wed.” I clung to what strength I had left, trying not to crumble at her weeping. Her tears felt like acid on my skin. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer, until our faces were mere inches apart. “I’d give anything to see your hair turn white, Piccola Furetta. To rest my cane beside yours and have you at my bedside during my last breath. But keeping you with me would be the most selfish and cruel thing I could do. My enemies would always be after you. You’d be the first target. And you’re the last person I want to lose in this world.” I gasped, the pain consuming me. “This is the end of our story, dolcezza. But I want you to keep the Vicari ring. One day, when you’re an old woman, look at it and remember me. Remember us.”
Daisy sobbed and wailed, her pain reverberating throughout the room and mingling with the beeping of the monitors, which at that moment echoed the frantic rhythm of my heart.
“I don’t want the ring!” she cried out. “I want you. Please.”
“Unfortunately, dolcezza, that cannot be.”
Daisy might never understand, might never forgive me for this, but I would rather live out the rest of my life missing her than exist in a world where she no longer breathes. I would rather let her go and watch her walk down the aisle toward another man than have to bring flowers to her grave.
A man could sayti amoin many ways. By asking a woman to marry him. By gifting her a bouquet of flowers. Even by ripping his heart out and offering it to her on a silver platter. I was letting my woman go, and I didn’t believe I had ever meant ati amoas deeply as that one. Perhaps because I had never loved anyone—not even close—as much as I loved Daisy Parker.
Chapter 56
Daisy Peonia Mary Parker
August, 2025
Silver River, South Mississippi, USA
Ihad only felt that kind of pain twice in my life: when I lost my Papa, and when I witnessed Lester’s death. Now, it was back, heavy in my chest.
The taxi moved steadily through the streets of Silver River. Huddled against the window, I was grateful the driver was busy humming to himself. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want anyone to see me or even look at me. A deep, dark hole to crawl into, that was all I wanted.
Before I could stop it, my lower lip trembled and tears began to fall again. I couldn’t believe he had sent me away. Not after everything. He hadn’t even taken me to the plane. It was Luca, Donatella Condello, and, of course, Fabiano who had accompanied me, making sure I left Italy for good.
Making sure I lefthim.
I pressed a hand against my mouth to stifle my sobs and stared out the window. Two months ago, I hadn't wanted to leave Silver River. Now, going back was the worst possible scenario. I no longer belonged in Mississippi. Not when my foolish heart was in Calabria, with Camillo.
My hands rested on my knees. When the taxi turned a corner, sunlight streamed through the window, falling directly on my left hand. The peridot sparkled, a painful reminder of something that hadn't lasted long enough.
Camillo sent me away to protect me, not understanding that protection was the last thing I wanted. I’d already been overprotected. By my Papa. By Aunt Lizzie. By Olivia. By Lester.
I preferred the danger. The death it carried and all the risks that came with it.
“This way, miss?” the driver asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The car turned another corner and my heart leapt into my throat, caught between surprise and joy. Papa’s house appeared before me, but not as I had left it. It was back to the way it used to be. Just as it was when Papa was alive.
The previous owners had stripped away the brick facade, replacing it with white siding. They’d swapped the French doors for modern wood and turned the classic windows into glass panes that barely opened. But during the months I’d been away, it seemed my aunt had reversed all of it.