ROOSEVELT’S POV

We packed our bags the next morning and left New York as we boarded Zyran's jet to finally head home to Italy. The entire flight was filled with kisses, happy tears, and the realization that we were completely free.

When the car drove us away from the Milan airport, I leaned my head against Zyran's shoulder feeling exhausted yet happy, until I looked out the tinted window and noticed we were driving down an unfamiliar street.

"Zyran, where are we going? This isn't the way to the house," I asked, sitting up slightly and watching the big gates that slowly opened in front of us. They revealed a...