26

26

Arabella

The night was too quiet.

Not peaceful - just still. Exactly how I felt on the inside. I was tired of crying; I had cried all day until my eyes were swollen and red.

I felt like a weight was crushing me down, and I was too tired to react.

I stepped out onto the balcony, my bare feet touching the cold stone. The silk robe I wore clung to my skin— soft and light— but it didn’t make me warm.

I wrapped my arms around myself and walked to the railing. The moon was bright tonight. Too bright. Like it was watching me.

I stared at the stars for a moment, lost in the beauty of the night sky.

I didn’t know if I was alone, but I didn’t care.

Not at first.

I just stood there, staring out at the trees and the garden, breathing in the cool air like I needed it to stay sane, because I did.

Nothing had prepared me for the encounter with my father today. I thought the last time I saw him, when he dropped me off at the mansion, would be the last I’d see of him for a long time. I had almost forgotten how he treated me that day. He barely met my eyes, didn’t flinch when I cried and begged him. I let out a huge sigh.

Then I felt it.

Him.

I didn’t hear a sound. Not a single footstep. But I knew he was there, just beyond the archway, hiding in the shadows like he always did. Watching. Waiting.

“Do you ever sleep?” I asked softly.

His voice came from the dark, calm and familiar. “Only when I know you’re safe.”

I smiled a little, but it didn’t last. “Then you must never sleep at all.”

I turned to look at him. He was still in the shadows, part of the night, like he belonged there. But I could see his face now. Those dark eyes. That strong jaw. The way he stood, like he was always ready to fight something. Or someone.

Six.

He looked like a soldier. A protector. But also like a man who had seen too much. He had to—in the few weeks that I had been plunged into this life, I had seen a lot.

I stepped closer, staring at the planes of his perfect face under the moonlight. “Do you ever want to leave?” I asked in a silent whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. I could tell I surprised him.

“It’s not my place to want anything,” he said finally.

That hurt to hear. Not because he was being cold, but because I knew he believed it. I didn’t know his arrangement with Capo and my father, or why he had chosen this path for himself, but I knew he was a lot different from the others. He didn’t look like evil.

I moved closer, until I could feel the warmth coming off his body. Close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him. But I didn’t. Not yet.

“Do you miss anything?” I asked. “Family? Your father? Is there nothing you’re looking forward to outside here?”

He paused. “I don’t remember him.”

I looked down. “I’m sorry about that. Unfortunately, I have mine, and I remember him.” The words came out before I could stop them. “I wish I didn’t, but I do. I remember who he was when my mother was here, and who he was afterwards. He was a very different man.” I teared up and wiped at my eyes. “When I was little, he used to make these tiny paper birds for me,” I said. “Told me they were magic. Said they’d protect me.” I gave a soft laugh. “Guess they stopped working.”

Six didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He just stood there, listening. That was enough. I needed someone to listen.

I looked at him again, really looked. The way his face stayed calm, but his eyes always held something deeper.

“What’s your name?” I asked suddenly.

“Six.”

“Your real name?” I pressed.

He looked away.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to push.”

We stood there in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of things we weren’t saying.

Then I asked something risky. “What if Marco walks in on us right now?”

Six looked at me, dead serious. “Then I’d have to kill him.”

My eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

He didn’t answer. That told me everything.

I shook my head, but a smile tugged at my lips. “You’re insane.”

“You asked,” he said simply.

I turned back to the garden. “Any word from the old wizard?”

It took him a second, then he gave a quiet laugh. “Corleone?”

“You said we needed code names,” I said, trying to keep the mood light.

“No,” he said. “Nothing yet.”

Silence fell again. This time heavier.

“Are you not scared?” I asked. “Not even a little?”

“Fear isn’t an emotion I’m capable of feeling.”

“You have a reputation, you know,” I said after a while. “There was an article about you.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“About a mafia assassin named Six,” I went on. “Said you took out an entire family in one night. Said you strangled a man with his own tie.”

He rolled his eyes slightly. “Sounds dramatic.”

“It read like fiction,” I said. But I knew better.

I looked at him and said softly, “But I know better.”

He stepped closer. I could feel his breath now. We were inches apart.

And then he smiled.

Not the cold one. Not the fake one he wore around my father or Marco. A real one. Soft. Honest. It made something in my chest ache.

I don’t know what would’ve happened next. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.

But the moment shattered when Marco’s voice echoed from inside the house.

“Arabella!”

I flinched.

My whole body tensed. My heart dropped.

“I should go,” I muttered, but I didn’t move.

“I know,” Six replied, and he didn’t move either.

We just stood there. Everything else around us didn’t matter in that moment. It was just us and the starry sky over our heads.

I didn’t want to go back in. I didn’t want to face Marco. But I didn’t want Six to get hurt either.

So I looked at him one last time.

And then I turned away.

But even as I walked inside, I could still feel him watching me.

And somehow, that made me feel a little less alone.