Page 116 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
Gabriel appears with a blanket, draping it carefully over Erin's shoulders. "You should eat something," he says gently. "And probably let the doctor look at those bruises."
Erin touches her swollen eye gingerly, as if she had forgotten it was there. "Patrick hit me when I tried to run. After Dolan—" She swallows hard. "I tried to fight him, but there were too many guards."
Rage flashes through me, hot and violent. Patrick is already dead, but part of me wishes I could have been there to kill him. I would have done it slower this time. More painful. Just like the way he deserves.
"You fought," I say, focusing on that instead of the anger. "That is what matters. You did not just accept it. You fought back."
"I learned from the best," Erin says, managing a small smile. "You always taught me to fight."
"And you always taught me it was okay to care," I counter. "We balance each other out."
Dante helps us both to our feet, and Gabriel steadies Erin when she wobbles. Callahan stands more slowly, his joints creaking, but there is satisfaction in his expression.
"I should return to the compound," he says. "Start consolidating power before anyone realizes Patrick is gone. But Erin—" He pauses, looking at her with something like paternal affection. "Your father loved you more than anything in this world. He wanted you to be happy, safe, free to choose your own path. If you want to go to Texas and raise chickens and never touch the mafia world again, he would have supported that. I will make sure everyone knows you are under Salvatore protection and that anyone who harms you will answer to both the Irish and Italian families."
"Thank you," Erin whispers. "For everything. For helping rescue me. For being loyal to Dad even after?—"
"Seamus was my brother," Callahan says simply. "There was never a question of loyalty."
He shakes Dante's hand, nods to Gabriel, and then he is gone, slipping back into the night to claim control of the Irish mafia in Seamus's name.
The house suddenly feels quieter, emptier. Just the four of us in the foyer—me and Erin and Dante and Gabriel. Family, in all the ways that matter.
"Where is Luca?" I ask, suddenly realizing he is not here.
"Disposing of Patrick's body," Dante says matter-of-factly. "He will be back by morning."
Erin shivers under her blanket. "I should feel bad about that. About being glad someone is dead. But I don’t. I just feel—" She pauses, searching for the word. "Empty. Like all my emotions burned out and there is nothing left."
"That is shock," Gabriel says gently. "And grief. It will get easier with time."
"Will it?" Erin asks, and the vulnerability in her voice breaks my heart. "Because I don’t see how anything will ever feel normal again."
I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close. "It will not feel normal for a long time. But it will feel bearable. Eventually. And until then, you have me. You have us."
She leans her head on my shoulder, exhausted and broken but alive. "I don’t know what I would do without you, Rosie."
"Good thing you will never have to find out," I tell her. "Because I am not going anywhere."
Dante and Gabriel exchange a glance—some silent communication I cannot quite read—and then Dante speaks.
"Erin, you should stay here tonight. We have plenty of guest rooms, and the doctor is already here. Let him check you over, make sure you and the baby are okay. Then you can sleep in an actual bed with actual security and decide what you want to do in the morning."
Erin nods, too tired to argue. "Okay. Thank you."
Gabriel guides her toward the stairs, and I move to follow, but Dante catches my hand.
"Give them a moment," he says quietly. "Gabriel will take care of her. I need to talk to you."
I turn to face him, studying his face in the dim light of the foyer. He looks exhausted—not just physically tired, but emotionally wrung out. The weight of tonight's violence sits heavy on his shoulders.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I should be asking you that question."
"I asked first."
He pulls me closer, his arms coming around me, and I melt into his embrace. For a moment, we just stand there, holding each other in the quiet house, letting the adrenaline finally drain away.
