"Nobody is allowed between these pretty little thighs but me....and if anyone tries...𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
~
They call him The King-a ghost who rules the world's most powerful mafia from the shadows. No face. No mercy. No mistakes.
And beside...
-"We're not good people, but I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love."-
_______________________________
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The air was thick with summer jasmine as the black SUV rolled up the long gravel road of the Rego family vineyard in Palermo.
Antonio's hands were clenched on the steering wheel. Katrina sat beside him, her posture ramrod straight, eyes fixed out the window.
They hadn't spoken much during the drive. What could they say? What words were left after five years of silence, grief, and pretending the dead would never rise?
The estate looked exactly the same. White stone walls kissed by ivy. The rusted swing still hung from the olive tree. The scent of fresh bread floated from the back kitchen.
It was a house frozen in mourning.
Antonio stepped out first.
Katrina followed—but didn't move past the car.
The front door creaked open.
Their mother appeared first, flour still dusted on her hands, wiping them absently on her apron. She froze mid-step, her eyes locked on her children. Her knees gave out before she could breathe.
Their father was behind her, slower, more skeptical—until he saw Katrina.
The air cracked.
"Mamma?" Antonio said, voice tight.
But she didn't answer. She stumbled down the stone steps barefoot, and without a second's hesitation, threw her arms around Katrina, sobbing from so deep inside her chest it was primal. Grief and joy, disbelief and faith, all tangled in a mother's scream of love.
"K-Katrina..." she gasped. "No. No, it can't be—"
"It's me," Katrina whispered, tears rushing down her face. "Mamma... it's me."
Her father approached slowly, as if fearing a mirage. He touched her cheek. "My baby girl..."
He dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he pulled both Katrina and Antonio into his arms. "We thought we'd lost you," he said, voice broken. "We buried a stone. We prayed to air."
Antonio didn't speak. He held them all tight, tears running silently as his mother kissed his temple and clutched Katrina like she'd never let her go again.
Katrina finally pulled back, her voice thick. "I wanted to come back sooner. I wanted to—but I had to stay dead. For your safety."
Their mother nodded through tears. "It doesn't matter. You're here. You're home."
Behind them, the sun began to set over the vineyard, turning the sky a soft gold.
