The ties that bind

The beach house had never been a permanent home.

It was a hideout. A temporary escape. Never meant to last.

But as Serena stood near the window, looking out at the dark waves, she felt the familiar ache of leaving something behind.

She hated this.

Not because she loved the island. Not even close.

She hated the feeling of running.

And she hated that, for once, Marco was saying exactly what she was thinking.

"We leave tonight."

Lorenzo's voice was sharp, final. No hesitation. No room for argument.

But Marco?

Marco wasn't having it.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He slammed his palm against the dining table. "So that's it? We're running? Again?"

Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "We're being smart. Sabatini's men already breached our perimeter once. If we stay, we're making it easier for them to finish the job."

Matteo nodded, arms crossed. "He's right. Stefano's murder proved one thing—someone knew exactly where to find us."

"And moving fixes that?" Marco scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Let's just pack up and run like cowards. Great plan."

"You think we're being cowards?" Vincenzo leaned forward, eyes dark. "Or do you just want to stay here because you don't know what the hell happens next?"

That hit a nerve.

Marco clenched his fists. "I think we should fight. That's what we do."

Lorenzo's voice cut through the argument like a blade.

"We don't fight blind."

Silence.

Serena swallowed hard, gripping the armrest of her chair.

She understood Marco's frustration. She wanted to agree.

She hated running.

Because the last time she left a home behind, she had been dragged away and never allowed to return.

But this time?

This wasn't just about her.

She exhaled. "Where are we going?"

"Nothing stays behind," Lorenzo ordered as everyone split off to pack. "We don't leave anything that can be traced back to us."

The house erupted into movement.

Footsteps thundered against the floor. Drawers slammed shut. The tension was thick, hanging over them like a storm.

Serena threw the last of her clothes into a bag, her heart pounding.

She hated this feeling.

The feeling of being uprooted. Of never belonging anywhere.

For a split second, she let herself stare at the room she had been staying in.

Nothing about it was really hers. But for a short time, it had been a place to exist.

She clenched her fists and turned away.

It was just a temporary home.

It was never meant to last.

In the hallway, Marco tossed his bag against the wall with a loud thud.

"This is fucking bullshit."

Sofia sighed, adjusting the strap on her bag. "Just let it go, Marco."

Marco scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Let me just accept that we're running for our lives again. Totally normal."