The Assassins Kiss

Chapter 24

Ezra's POV

It's been a month and a half.
My dad comes home today.

You'd think I'd be relieved, maybe even happy. But all I can feel is this constant, dull weight in my chest.

And Iris? She's practically glowing. Her dreams have come true—her and Killian are inseparable now.

They're never quiet, always laughing or whispering or touching like the world doesn't exist around them.

She like him so much, it's written all over her face. I wish I could be happy for her. I wish it didn't sting so much.

But I've been dreading this day. Not because of my dad. Because of Lily.

She's so in love with this house. With Luca, Roman, Aurora—she's fallen head over heels for every single person here.

And I know when we leave, it's going to destroy her. She'll try to smile through it, but I'll see it in her eyes. I always do.

And then there's Luca.

We haven't spoken since that night in his office.

Not one word.

We pass each other in the hallway sometimes—accidental, silent run-ins. We lock eyes for a second, like maybe we'll say something, like maybe we'll fix this. But we never do.

We just break the gaze and keep walking. Pretending like none of it ever happened.

It's agony.

I told him to stay away from Lily. I made it clear. And still, he spends time with her every single day.

She adores him. Of course she does. He's good with her. Too good.

And part of me hates that because I know she's going to miss him more than she'll ever admit. And he's going to miss her too. That's the worst part.

I told Iris not to get attached to Killian, and look where that got me. She didn't listen. Neither of them did. No one listened.

So now, I'm stuck picking up the pieces of two hearts that are about to break—and the cruel irony is, mine's already shattered.

I find her curled up on the bed, humming to herself, cradling one of Aurora's old stuffed animals like it's her most prized possession.

"Hey, mi amore," I say softly, offering her a smile as I walk over.

"Hi, Momma," she beams, completely unaware that the moment I've been dreading is here.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, reaching for her tiny hands. "I need to talk to you, honey," I whisper, already feeling the lump build in my throat.

She blinks up at me, curious, waiting.

"We're leaving tomorrow," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her brows furrow. "For a vacation?"

God, I wish it were that simple.

"No, baby," I shake my head. "We have to go back. We're going home. Back to Milan."

She immediately shakes her head, her small face scrunching up. "I don't want to go," she says, her voice already starting to crack. "I want to stay here."

I do too, I think, but I can't say it. If I say it, I'll break.

"I'm sorry, but we have to. We can't stay here," I say, reaching to brush a curl from her face.

She pulls away. "No, Momma." Her little arms cross tight over her chest. Her lips press into a thin, stubborn line.

"I know this is hard," I say gently. "But it's not forever. We'll be okay."