Chapter 14 - The Last Shadow on the Mountain
I was five months pregnant when Enzo DeLuca escaped federal transport.
The call came at 6:12 a.m.
Marco answered.
His face went white.
For all the peace we had built, danger had not completely disappeared.
Enzo had one reason to hate Vincent.
One reason to hate Aldo.
One reason to hate me.
We had helped destroy everything Gabriel’s old network became.
Vincent wanted me moved immediately.
I agreed.
That scared him more than an argument would have.
“What?”
“I said yes.”
“You always say no.”
“I’m pregnant, not stupid.”
“Debatable.”
I threw a pillow.
We moved to a secure property.
Two days later, agents found Enzo’s abandoned vehicle near Black Ridge.
He was going to Rose’s house.
My house.
That made me furious.
Not enough to go there.
Growth again.
Agents surrounded the property.
Enzo entered through the back.
He found no one.
But he took Rose’s photographs.
Why?
Nobody knew.
Then David realized.
One photograph showed Gabriel Moretti with Daniel.
Behind them was a wall calendar.
A date.
The same date as a hidden bank transfer prosecutors had never proven.
Enzo wanted to destroy the last evidence tying Gabriel’s network to modern accounts.
He headed toward the quarry.
There was an old burn barrel there.
We knew because Rose used it decades earlier.
Agents moved in.
Vincent stayed with me.
That may sound small.
It wasn’t.
The old Vincent would have gone.
Danger demanded his presence.
Power demanded his presence.
Pride demanded it.
Instead, he sat beside me in the secure house and waited.
Because being my partner mattered more than being the man who personally ended everything.
Marco called at 4:30 p.m.
“They have him.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Alive.
No shootout.
No cliff fall.
No dramatic death.
Enzo surrendered after twenty minutes surrounded in freezing rain.
The photograph survived.
That was how the cycle finally ended.
Not with a body.
With handcuffs.
The next morning, Vincent took me home.
Rose’s house smelled like rain and disturbed dust.
One frame lay broken on the floor.
A photograph of Rose holding me at age five.
I picked it up.
The glass was cracked through her face.
For one moment, sadness hit hard.
Then Vincent took the frame.
“I’ll fix it.”
I looked at him.
“You can fix frames?”
“No.”
“Then why did you say that?”
“I know people.”
“Of course you do.”
He smiled.
We walked outside.
The mountain was wet.
Clouds moved through the valley.
The same kind of weather as the morning I found him.
Vincent stopped near the tree line.
“Come with me.”
“No cliffs.”
“No cliffs.”
He led me to a flat overlook Rose used to call Hawk Point.
Rocco followed.
Vincent reached into his coat.
I stared.
“You are not doing this because I’m pregnant.”
“I bought this before you were pregnant.”
“That is suspiciously convenient.”
“Hannah.”
He opened the box.
Simple ring.
No absurd diamond.
No mafia-sized gemstone.
Exactly something I would wear.
“I spent most of my life thinking love meant protecting people by controlling what reached them.”
His voice shook slightly.
“You taught me that love without truth is just another cage.”
My eyes filled.
“I cannot promise you nothing dangerous will ever happen.”
“Good start.”
He laughed softly.
“I can promise you will never have to wonder whether I chose you.”
That sentence broke the last piece of me Ethan had left damaged.
Vincent continued.
“I will choose you when you’re angry.”
Tears slipped down my face.
“When you’re impossible.”
“Careful.”
“When you tell me no.”
“Frequently.”
“When you remind me I’m wrong.”
“Daily.”
He smiled.
“And when you make me better without ever asking me to become someone else.”
He held the ring.
“Hannah Vale Bell… will you marry me?”
I looked at Rocco.
“Thoughts?”
Rocco sneezed.
Vincent frowned.
“That felt disrespectful.”
I laughed.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
He stood.
I kissed him.
No crowd.
No men bowing.
No family strategy.
No fear.
Just rain beginning softly through the trees.
Later, I thought about Ethan’s porch.
Two suitcases.
Marjorie holding divorce papers.
The silence I once believed was proof I had no value.
How strange that losing that house led me back to the one where every truth had been waiting.
I touched my locket.
Then my ring.
One came from a past built on secrecy.
May you like
The other came from a future built on choice.
I knew which one I wanted our child to inherit.
