Chapter 27: Salvatore

I was fourteen the first time I met Eden.

Two years since I’d left the silent halls of my father’s villa, where no one ever spoke unless it was with a slap.

No one had noticed when I stopped eating.

No one asked when I stopped coming home at night.

Sergio had.

He was the only one who ever looked me in the eye and saw something worth fixing.

He took me in.

Not officially, not like some adoption fantasy.

But enough.

He gave me a bed. Clothes. A job in the garage. A new name to carry.

And I wanted—desperately—to be worth it.

To be worth him.

I wanted to be the kind of son he could be proud of.

I was trying.

Hard.

Too hard.

And it showed.

I kept my bed tight, my grades perfect, my voice quiet.

But every time he looked at me, I still felt like a stray dog he’d let in out of pity.

That rainy afternoon, he said he was bringing someone home.

He didn’t say who.

Just told me to stand up straight and be respectful.

I waited in the foyer.

Hands in my pockets.

Back stiff.

Heartbeat loud.

The door opened.

Sergio stepped in, umbrella tucked under one arm, a small child clinging tightly to his neck.

“She’s shy,” he muttered, brushing rain from his coat.

“A little slow to warm up.”

Her face was buried in his shoulder.

Dark curls plastered to her cheek.

She gripped the collar of his jacket like it was a lifeline.

“This is Eden,” he said.

“Your new sister.”

I blinked as another figure stepped through the door behind him.

A woman.

Eden’s mother.

Short. Pale. Beautiful in a sharp, cold way.

Her lips were pinched, her coat pristine despite the rain.

She looked around the foyer like she already hated the wallpaper.

“Salvatore,” Sergio said, nodding toward me.

The woman’s eyes flicked to me, then away.

Disinterest. That was all she had for me.

Not cruelty.

Just…nothing.

“Eden,” Sergio said, shifting the girl in his arms.

“This is Salvatore. Say hi.”

She didn’t move.

Didn’t lift her head.

Didn’t speak.

I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Hi.”

The moment I spoke, she stirred.

Lifted her head slowly.

Honey-colored eyes peeked out from under soaked lashes.

She blinked.

Looked right at me.

And then—wordless—she reached for me.

Sergio raised a brow but passed her over without hesitation.

She was light.

Warm.

Tiny arms wrapped tight around my neck, like she’d decided something about me I hadn’t earned yet.

I froze.

I’d never held a child before.

Didn’t even know how to hold one.

But I clutched her gently anyway, afraid I’d break her.

She pulled back just enough to see my face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Salvatore.”

She frowned in concentration.

“Sa-vuh-tory?”

I smiled.

“Close enough.”

Behind me, Eden’s mother sighed softly.

Sergio ignored her.

Eden leaned her head against my chest again.

“What’s your favorite song?”

I blinked.

“I don’t have one.”

She gasped like I’d said something tragic.

“You gotta have one.”

I shrugged. “Never thought about it.”

A moment of silence.

Then she asked: “Can we be friends?”

I hesitated.

“You need friends your own age.”

Her lower lip wobbled.

The pout formed instantly—small, perfect, deadly.

A pit opened in my chest.

She hadn’t even known me five minutes and she already knew how to tear me apart.

I tucked a curl behind her ear.

“I won’t be your friend,” I whispered.

She blinked up at me.

Confused. A little sad.

I leaned closer, dropped my voice like a secret.

“But I’ll be your brother. Deal?”

She grinned.

Bright. Blinding.

“Deal.”