The moment Lucien and I break apart, all this weight was like it washed off over me .

It felt like I shed a second skin; that came with being Serafina Moretti, wife, underboss, protector, heiress.

All of it dissolved into just. me.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I wasn't anyone's responsibility or burden.

I wasn't trying to please expectations of anyone else; I was just a woman cutting lose in the streets of Santorini on that whole night.

The sky was a painting in deep oranges and purple, the sun disappearing over the horizon, casting a golden glow on the island.

A sense of exhilaration welled inside me. I wasn't in business today.

I wasn't watching my back for a problem.

I wasn't any wife or future mafia queen.

I was just a 21-year-old woman in a foreign land, where the whole night lay stretched out before me like a tabula rasa.

It felt strange at first, blindly walking without knowing where I was going. There was no plan, no calculated next step.

I wandered along the curvy streets through streams of tourists and locals alike getting lost for the very first time within.

Nobody knew that I was here. I could be anybody. And it was thrilling.

A small café had been tucked between two buildings. 

I hadn't eaten yet. Too much was too perfect to fill that hunger that sat in my stomach, reminding me I was alive, here and now, experiencing it all on my terms.

Chairs spilled into the cobblestone street. The combination of freshly baked bread and coffee drenched in a pinch of salt from seas elsewhere filled the air. 

I slipped in and let the cool caress of the ceiling fan on my skin.

I got myself grilled fish like any girl in Santorini would. 

I sat at a small wooden table with an open cup of strong brew in my hands.

The weight of my usual life felt lighter.

People passed, and went about their evening:

Locals vivaciously speaking Greek, tourists taking photos, and the air was full of laughter.

For the first time in my life, I let myself just sit there, taking it in without thinking or analyzing.

No thoughts about threats, no need to plot.

Just be here, just another face in the crowd.

I leaned back on my chair, closed my eyes for a minute and listened to people chattering all around me with hushed tones.

It was peaceful and chaos all at once-the kind of normalcy that I was not allowed to have at home.

It was the kind of normalcy which had been deprived of me the moment I entered the world I was born into.

Here though, I could pretend.

I finished my food, got up, and just wanted to see more of the island. The streets curled around, turn after turn like a maze, but I really didn't care if I was lost.

It was freeing not knowing where I was going or what I would do.

I walked past a few tiny shops that sold handmade jewelry, ceramics, and woven baskets.

They both looked the embodiment of some person's hard work, a part of their life and their effort open for the whole world to see.

I bought from a street vendor a silver bracelet that just felt cool against the wrist, small souvenir of this night and that I would wear me.

This bracelet meant the freedom to me that I always dreamt of.

Then, as the sun set low, I walked down toward the beach, cobblestones broadening into soft sand.

I kicked off my sandals I purchased a while ago, cause I left my pair at Teodoro itself and let the warmth of the sand seep into my bare feet. 

Calming waves hit the shore-strong enough to calm something deep in me still.

Then I moved along the line where cooling waves lapped my ankles.

For an instant, I imagined being one of those strewn across the sand, free from the weight of having to think about the next step, the next move, the next alliance, and the next threat.

What would it be like to wake each morning with no burden of empire across your back?

A line of young women walked by me, laughing loudly and talking with arms thrown around each other's shoulders.

They seemed carefree in a way I hadn't in years-not a thought in my mind of what carrying such a massive responsibility felt like.

But for tonight, I was going to let myself pretend that I could be like them: just a girl on vacation, enjoying the night.

And I smiled, really smiled, and set out along the beach; the air was cool, the sky darkening as more of those stars began to come out of the inky blackness.

The line of the horizon still stood up there, shimmering gold, and behind me the town still hummed with its distant voices.

Then I walked back into town, twinkle lights overhead, past tiny tavernas whose doors swing open wide onto sidewalks carpeted with the succulent smells of fish grilled on a spit, lemon and ouzo. 

Let my feet take me down that dark alley, where, suddenly, I find myself in front of this one little hole-in-the-wall bar.

It is the kind of place where the music's loud, drinks are stiff, and nobody cares who you are.

Perfect.

I stepped inside to the warmth of packed-in bodies and the thrum of bass through the soles of my shoes.

The bartender looked up at me for a second, slid a drink down the counter to a waiting patron, and went back to mixing something invented in a metal shaker.

I came up to the bar, ordered something local, then leaned my back against the counter and let this place's energy soak into my skin.

This anonymity was intoxicating somehow. No one here looked at me like he thought I owed him something.

I wasn't the mafia heiress. I wasn't the ice cold, calculating Serafina with whom nothing was ever too perfect to be controlled, or out of place, for that matter.

I was just a woman sitting in the bar having a drink and surrounded by people who didn't know and wouldn't be interested in who I was.

This was almost freeing.

And I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging behind the bar, don't really recognize the face staring back. 

My eyes aren't hard; my jaw doesn't set.

I look. Younger. Lighter.

This is the first time in a while that I didn't feel as if I was at war with the world.

I took a swig of my drink, feeling the warmth spread across my chest and closing my eyes for a moment as I savored the feel.

Perhaps this was what freedom tasted like.

I took a sip of my drink for the third time. Soft laughter had taken my attention. 

The group of young women I had noticed lying on the beach some time ago were now very much in view near the entrance of the bar; they still slung arms around each other.

They seemed the type of girls who would just float through life, like air; the only thing they probably ever worried about was whether they should get out there and get another drink or go home.

Just as I turned away, one of them caught my eye. She had dark hair wild with curls that sprang across her face like leaping tongues of fire and a smile that somehow seemed to seep from her body like heat.

Her bright eyes twinkled with mischief, and the next minute she was coming toward me; the others catching right behind her.

I couldn't help but be swept up by their energy and carefree sprit which I hadn't felt for a long time. "Hey," she said loud enough to cut over the music but soft enough to be friendly.

"You looked a little lonely over here," she said, tilting her head and spreading a grin across her face. "I'm Emilia, by the way."

I hesitated for a heartbeat, still holding to the character of the lone wanderer, but there was something about her easy smile and the infectious laughter of her friends that didn't let me back away.

"Serafina," I said with a nod.

"Well, Serafina," chimed in another one, a blonde with sun-kissed skin and a vibrancy of dress. "We've been watching you—" She laughed when she saw my raised eyebrow. "Okay, that sounds creepy, but what I mean is you seem like you could use some cheering up."

Emilia nodded strongly. "Yeah! It is a beach bar. That is not too far from here. There's said to be some sort of party, and honestly speaking, it is one of the best places within this vicinity to just let go. You should come with us!"

I looked down to my drink and back up at them, my mind racing. This wasn't in the plan. I wanted to be able to go out alone for the night and just take in the anonymity.

But. how long has it been since I've really allowed myself to have fun? Real, unbridled fun?

I hadn't been able to remember. And wasn't that the point of this night? To be someone else, if only for a little while?

"I don't know." I started to say, but before I could get the words out, Emilia hooked her elbow through mine and pulled me off the bar

Come on, worst that could happen?" she teased me with growing smile. "It's going to be fun. And if it isn't, oh, well, we'll just slip out of here, find somewhere else, but I really feel that this is going to be incredible." 

She was vivacious. I hadn't realized it, but we left the bar and walked onto the beach together, laughing, before I knew it.

Cool air now, night was settling around us, and that warmth of camaraderie stayed my chill. But these girls did not know me, nor did I know them.

And that is what made it perfect: no expectation, no obligation, no judgment.

They introduced themselves as we walked, each of them giving me a little snippet of her life. Emilia is a local, born and raised on the island.

The blonde was Zoe, from Australia, traveling Europe before she settled into a "real job," as she called it. She and Emilia had been acquaintances of mutual friends back in California. 

This was Talia, a young woman with an easy smile, a little quieter. She'd recently moved to the island for work. They were all different, but there was this cohesive light.

Effortless.

Something I'd never experienced before.

We pulled up to the beach bar, where the music and laughter reached out to "get us" before we were really on the sand.

String lights between palm trees made a warm, languid glimmer over the whole crowd.

Many drank and danced barefoot; others slept or lounged on pillows and blankets here and there across the beach.

Lively and chaotic-just the right kind of way.

"See?" said Emilia, nudging me with her elbow. "Told you it'd be fun." I almost smiled as we walked into the bar.

Maybe for the first time in ages, I felt. free. Really free.

Not like pretending to be a functioning member of society on a mission but actually free to breathe deeply without the constant weight of responsibility bearing down on my chest.

We ordered some fruity and strong drink to drink; then we found a place near the very edge of the crowd, sitting on a blanket as chaos unfolded right in front of us.

She and Zoe were bouncing around, dancing nearly right off the bat, their laughter working itself into the beat. 

Talia sat next to me, sipping her drink, looking over at the beach. "You've got this, look," she said after some time, turning toward me.

"Like you've been carrying the world on your shoulders, and tonight's the first time you've put it down."

Then I blinked at her in surprise. She wasn't wrong, but it was kind of a strange thing for someone to say out loud.

"Yah," I whispered, my eyes lagging out over the ocean beyond the party.

"Something like that." She never pushed for more, which I found rather a pleasant relief. Instead, she clinked her glass against mine.

"To casting the world down, at least for one night." I smiled genuinely, raised my glass.

"To that." And as the night wore on and evening deepened into party, I got swept up by it.

And Emilia dragged me up, insisting that I dance with them; and the next thing I knew, I was spinning in the sand, laughing as the music pulsed through the air.

I wasn't concerned about what was coming next.

Not about Lucien, not about the family, not about that war we are always preparing for. I was just. here.

Bottles of drinks flowed freely, the music never stopped playing, and the beach was a world away from everything I had known.

There was a savagery to the night, unpredictability which thrilled me but scared at the same time. Much more than this, however, it freed.

It was just a second ago when I had stood on the beach front of the ocean. 

Lapping waves wiped my feet as I stared into the vacuum of the horizon.

At my back, the party continued raging, but in that one split second, I was alone with my thoughts.

The waves soothed my ears; I closed my eyes and let it wash over me.

I was free. No expectations. No responsibility.

Just a girl, standing by the beach, watching the world go by.

I don't know how long I stood there; somehow though, Emilia managed to come up beside me and bump her shoulder against mine. "Heavy thoughts?"

I looked at her with this soft smile. "Something like that."

"You're not like the rest of us, are you?" she asked her voice low but without judgment. "You've got a lot more going on than you let on."

I shrugged, I didn't know what to say. "Maybe."

"That's okay," she said her tone light again. "We all have our crap. But tonight's not about that. Tonight's about forgetting all of it, even if just for a little while."

"Yeah. Tonight's just for tonight."

"Exactly," she said with a grin. "Now come on, let's make the most of it." 

And I did. For the rest of the night, I let myself get lost in the moment. I danced, I laughed, talked with people whose names I'd never remember, and for the first time in years, I felt just like any other 20-year-old.