The Romano estate looked peaceful in the late morning sun, gardens perfectly manicured, fountain sparkling in the courtyard.
Normal. Safe. A world away from airport confrontations and handcuffs and justice finally served.
Matteo pulled the car to a stop at the front entrance, and for a moment, none of them moved.
"How do we tell him?" Felix asked quietly from the back seat.
Luciano stared at the house, hands folded in his lap. "Carefully," he said. "He's been living in fear for days. This news—" He stopped, searching for words. "It will feel too good to be true."
"It *is* true," Matteo said.
"I know." Luciano's voice was soft. "But trauma doesn't release its grip easily. Even when the threat is gone, the fear remains."
He opened his door and stepped out, and Matteo and Felix followed.
The front door opened before they reached it—Jianyu, alert as always, reading something in their faces that made his expression shift.
"Don." he said, voice carefully neutral. "Did it happen?"
