The beat pulsed through my body like another heartbeat, thumping louder with every shot I swallowed. I hadn't felt this way in years-maybe ever.

Free. Free. Freeee. F. R. E. E.

My head was spinning, the lights flickering as I swayed, my feet unsteady but alive with energy.

A bubble of soft laughter rose out of my chest as Zoe took my arm and hauled me into another picture with the girls. "Smile!" she cheered, holding her phone up. 

I flung my arms around her and grinned very widely.

The camera flashed, and I giggled, swaying more than I should.

I was carefree, unburdened. 

As far as Serafina Moretti could be from the woman who clasped power and wielded it as a right to do so.

Here, nobody knew nobody cared about the weight borne, about the responsibilities, about the blood on my hands.

That is, I was just. Someone. A random twenty-something in Santorini drinking, laughing, and dancing with not one care in the world.

Zoe pushed another shot in front of me and I blinked at it, tipsy but confused.

"You gonna take that or stare at it?" she teased, nudging me. "Come on, Sera. Live a little!"

"Live a little?" I whispered to myself and then downed the shot like it was water, the burn hitting my throat, but I didn't care. I had never lived like this-had never let myself.

And as I danced in the crowd, surrounded by the hot feeling of people's bodies, someone bumped into me, and I laughed again, making a spin and landing on someone's chest. "Oops! Sorry!"

"It's all right," he murmured in a low, smooth voice.

I blinked up at him through bleary eyes, drunk enough to vaguely notice the sharp cut of his jaw and the gray eyes watching me with a mix of amusement and something else.

I smiled politely, wondering if he wanted friendly or wanted more. "I'm Serafina," I said to him, barely out of habit at this point.

He nodded, his smile spreading by just a little bit more. "Kyle. Nice to meet you."

Before I had much of a chance to utter my words, Zoe pulled back my hand toward the bar.

"C'mon! We're doing another round!"

Scarcely had time to wave at Kyle before we were hemmed in by more drinks and more cheers.

Every gone second was freeing me, and the alcohol was fuzzying out my boundaries to let everything shine brighter and softer.

"You're cutting loose quite a bit tonight," Zoe said clinking her glass against mine. "I have never seen anybody so free".

."Free," I said, saying out loud again the word and letting it flip and roll around in my head. "Yeah. Feels good".

Zoe nudged me. "That fella back there? He couldn't take his eyes off you".

I blinked and looked around on my shoulder where Kyle stood, talking to his friends. He caught looking at him for a second and winked, raised his drink in acknowledgement, and I smiled to myself, not thinking much of it.

"Why don't you go and speak to him?" Zoe asked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "You never know. Maybe it will be fun".

Fun.

That word again. It's what tonight was supposed to be about, right?

Fun. Freedom. No strings attached.

I laughed and half-genuinely and half-nervously shook my head. "Nah, it's all good. Just having a good night."

But Zoe wasn't going to let that slide. "Come on, Sera. You've been wandering around like you've been carrying the world on your back all day, every day. Just let yourself have this."

"I don't know," I mumbled, feeling a strange sense of shame as I looked at Kyle again.

Fine. He was nice enough; it was just that. Lucien. 

My mind flashed to Lucien and the way his smile lit up his face and the sensation of his touch against me.

Even in this drunken haze, something about him always brought me back.

We weren't perfect, and tonight we were supposed to be taking a break from everything, from each other, from being anything except ourselves.

But the idea of getting closer to someone else was wrong.

I shook my head, tried to push the thought away. "Let's dance, Zoe."

Zoe grinned and pulled me up onto the small makeshift stage at the bar.

And then suddenly the music changed, speed picked up, and we were dancing on the tables laughing totally with the crowd - completely-and the rest of the crowd cheered us along.

For the first time in decades I was not Serafina Moretti, mafia princess, calculating cold underboss.

I was just Serafina-wild and free, dancing on a table in Santorini without a worry in my mind, when the wind gusted into my face and almost inaudible noises of the ocean ahead were drowned by my twirls lost to myself.

"Girl you're killing it!" Zoe screamed over the music as we jumbled together in our best moves, arms entwined with each other.

I laughed back, head thrown back to give vent to my pure bliss. 

This was it-this was what I needed.

Forget. Let go. Be. And that was it.

The crowd below cheered and we danced harder and faster till everything became a blur of lights, music, and laughter.

And then, out of nowhere, Kyle joined us at the table.

I had only vaguely noticed his presence till the music began catching up to me. Then I was there, turning to look at him, grinning at me as if we were ancient buddies. 

He reached out to take hold of my hand and twirl me around.

I had been frozen for a moment in conflicting feelings of urge with caution, but didn't have the time to deliberate further.

Zoe pushed me only toward him in play. "Go on!"

I stepped back and allowed him to spin me around as he twirled me. 

It was fun. Harmless. At least that is what my mind kept telling me.

He was just some random guy, and we were just two people dancing.

But still, something nagged the back of my head. Something that felt. Wrong.

I could feel his hand resting on the waistband as we danced together. Or so I thought in my fantasy, for his body was definitely closer to mine than humanly possible. 

Not that I cared.

I was far too drunk and far too worked up for the night head.

And then, somehow, the music receded into the background. My laughter died on my lips as I felt a familiar presence in the room.

I was turning, and saw Lucien.

My eyes were glued to him. His face was dark, and at that moment, my heart stopped moving. I hadn't even realized things had gone so far. 

I just was, having fun, right?

But Lucien's eyes told otherwise.

Before I could even think of the words to say, he was by my side. 

His grip was around my bicep, tightened yet not sorely. 

He turned and without saying a word pulled me away from the table.

"Hey, what the-", I tried to protest but my words were slurred and staggering as I almost lost my balance as my feet seemed to touch the ground.

"Thanks for keeping my wife company for the evening," he said to Talia and Zoe, they just nodded as he carried me out of the bar.

He just hurled me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing at all. I could feel the warmth of his body and smell his scent as he carried me through the crowd.

The cheering and laughter faded away as he walked out towards the exit, with his hold on me being firm yet gentle.

"Lucien, what the fuck?" I mumbled, my head spinning at the full effect of the alcohol. The world tilted beneath my feet, but his grip on me was solid, grounding.

He said nothing until we were out of the noise.

And then, nearly as if he'd merely been lowering me rather than setting me down, he reached out and rested his hands on my shoulders, his eyes pinning mine in a fair share of anger as well as something else that I could not pinpoint.

"What the hell was that?" he asked low, barely in control.

I blinked, dazed and half-drunk. "What are you talking about? I was dancing."

"With him?" Lucien's jaw muscles bunched, his hands a hair's breadth tighter on my shoulders. "You danced with him."

I frowned trying to make sense of it all. "He was just. We were just having fun, Lucien. Not a big deal."

"To you, maybe," he whispered, his eyes shadowing over. "But you are my wife, Serafina. My wife."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I stood there in shock, partially swaying as alcohol muddled my mind.

Lucien let out a discouraged sigh and rubbed a hand over his face before turning back to me again. "Let's get you back to the island. We'll talk about this in the morning."

I nodded weakly. Too tired, and now too drunk, to argue further.

I rocked a little under the uneven tide of drink inside my head, but Lucien steadied me with his hands on my shoulders.

And through the warm night-air fog swirling about my senses, his words echoed in my ears-sharp and harsh cutting through it all. "You are my wife, Serafina. My wife."

I looked up into his, squinting a little against the lights in the bar that were beginning to fade from my view.

Something more than confusion alone. And I didn't want to feel it now.

Why did he have to come? Now?

"I was having fun, Lucien," I muttered to myself, slurring slightly. "Why'd you have to come up and ruin it? He seemed nice."

Lucien's eyes flared. His jaw jolted forward. "You can't do that, Sera. Not with some stranger."

I pushed his hands away and stepped back into myself. "Why not? Why can't I, Lucien? What's wrong with a little? Company? A little fun?"

"Because you are married to me," he growled low, as if speaking the words was some reminder to both of us.

"Yeah," I laughed, the sound hollow. "I'm married to you. The great Lucien, mafia prince, perfect in every way." I could feel the bitterness building up, alcohol making it hard to keep in. "But what about me, huh? What about what I need? I'm tired, Lucien. Tired of pretending."

He said nothing and looked at me with hard, unreadable eyes.

And the silence between us, speaking louder than words for the nth time already. But today I didn't let it pass. I couldn't.

"I need more than this," I said my voice now barely above a quiver. "You have Eleanor. You have someone to go back to. Someone who gets you. Who you want to be with. What do I have?"

His face darkened. I could feel the anger beneath the surface. "Eleanor? It has nothing to do with Eleanor, Serafina."

Isn't it? I snapped out, my words sharper than I wanted them to be. "You've always had her. Even when you're with me, even when we're supposed to be. This, you always have her. You love her, don't you?"

Lucien spoke no word. 

His silence replied enough. Always had. "And me?" I'd said my voice softer, more vulnerable. "Who do I have, Lucien? Who's there for me? I've spent my whole life pretending to be someone I'm not. Strong, capable, untouchable. But I am tired of it. I need someone too."

He tried to speak but wouldn't let him as I knew that the emotions I had been hiding, and never allowed to be seen, rose to a head. "Do you know when I had my first kiss, Lucien? It wasn't because you wanted to kiss me. It was because you were obliged to. Everything that I've got in my life feels like it's an obligation like it's all fake."

Lucien's face flickered, and I caught a flicker of something - maybe guilt. But I didn't care.

I couldn't stop the words from spilling out of me. "You can go back to Eleanor whenever you want. You can play with me a while longer, but in the end, you have someone real waiting for you. Someone who knows you, who you want to be with."

I swallowed, and the lump that was lodged in my throat pressed down on the passageway that brought air into my lungs. "But where am I to go, Lucien? Where does that leave me? What do I have?"

And there was a silence.

All the world stopped for that instant as if time even shook, and then the air waited with bated breath for his answer.

He said nothing. I didn't know whether it was the alcohol, the rhythm of the night, or the weight of everything that I had been carrying inside myself all along, but I felt tears creep into my eyes. I blinked them away before I could let them fall in front of him.

"You're so lucky, you know?" I whispered, my voice not above a breath. "You get to be whoever you like. With whomever you want. And what do I have? Nothing. Not even you?"

I glanced at Lucien and thought he could have liked to touch me, but he didn't.

His silence was oppressive, almost an unspoken truth between us that we knew far too well.

I pulled back from him, shaking my head.

And it all finally hit me. "I just wanted to feel something tonight. To be someone else, even for a few hours. I wanted to be wanted. Was that so wrong? Is this what's so wrong?"

Lucien's face was set in the shape of his anger; his inside mouth gone black and gapped from its sharp descent into what he felt.

But I couldn't do this anymore.

I exhausted myself by thinking of how to reach him, to pretend not knowing where his heart lay.

"I am not Eleanor," I whispered into my mind softly. "I never will be."

Squeezing Serafina's wrist slightly more, the frustration now building up in my chest. "Serafina," I said my voice firmer than before "I get it. I really do."

She looked at me, her eyes wild and desperate, as though she had come to a moment in time where she was on the brink of something. 

I could feel it-the tension in the air, all of the burden that she'd carried around inside of her-that clung to me, within an aura as it unfolded.

She was always the one with all the answers, the one in control. But not tonight.

Tonight, she was unraveling—bit by bit—and I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to.

"You're lonely, Serafina." My voice came out quieter than I intended, but the words cut through the air between us. 

She stopped, her mouth snapping shut, and her jaw clenched as if she was trying to hold back the truth. 

Her lips pressed together so tight, I could almost hear the scream she was burying. "I can see it," I continued, locking eyes with her. "You don't have to pretend with me."

She let out a sharp, brutal laugh, shaking her head like I'd missed the point entirely. Maybe I had.

But I knew enough to realize this wasn't just about the alcohol or the guy at the bar earlier. It was more than that. 

This was about us. Everything unspoken between us, everything broken, everything we broke.

"I'm with Eleanor," I said, the name bitter on my tongue. "You know that." The words felt like ash, but I kept going, because I had to. "But I belong to you, too. In a way I don't even think you understand. We're bound to each other. And as your husband... it's my responsibility to give you what you need."

Her eyes flickered, emotions shifting behind them, but I couldn't read them.

"Don't," she finally said, her voice low, dangerous. "Don't say that like it's some duty. Like you're doing me a favor by being here. You don't belong to me, Lucien. You never have."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.

"And that's the problem, isn't it?" Her voice cracked, but she recovered, squaring her shoulders like she always did when she felt vulnerable. "You've always belonged to someone else, something else. Never to me. Not really."

Her words hung between us like a loaded gun, waiting to go off.

She pulled her wrist loose, her face fixed nastily up at me. "You think this is about needs, Lucien? You think all of this is just about me asking for something?"

Her voice rose, cutting through the night air. I could feel the anger in her, mixed with pain and hurt, but something I hadn't seen from her before: vulnerability.

"Don't act like you know," she spat. "You get to go back to Eleanor, to someone who actually wants you. What do I have? What have I ever had?" Her words were like knives, every one of them dripping into me with slow liquid awfulness.

I swallowed hard

It was at that moment that the truth behind her words slapped me and, in so doing, hit me in ways I wasn't prepared for. 

I did not have answers for her. Most times, I didn't even know it myself for my own sake.

But I knew one thing-this couldn't go on like this.

I moved closer, forcing her to raise her eyes to mine. "If you need something-anything-you come to me. Do you hear me?" I was low, almost a whisper, but the intensity was there. "You don't need to look anywhere else."

She was breathing hard now, chest rising and falling. 

She looked at me with this puzzled expression, like she did not know whether to push me away or hold on tighter. 

I didn't give her the choice.

I started walking toward the water without thinking, reaching out and grabbing her hand as I went. "Come with me."

"Lucien, what-" She tried to pull back, but I didn't let her. I dragged her down to the jet skis that were still parked by the shore, the water glistening under the moonlight.

"You want to escape, right?" I said, my voice harsher than I intended. "Let's escape."

I helped her onto the jet ski, making her sit in the front. "Hold on."

"Lucien, this isn't-"

"Just trust me," I cut her off, climbing on behind her. She roared the engine into life, and without another word, we tore across the water, the cold wind whipping our faces.

I could feel her stiffen out in front of me, body rigid. Then, when the jet ski propelled itself through the waves, she began to relax-in small measure. 

I held one hand on the throttle, the other wrapped snugly around her waist, holding her upright as we shot toward Teodoro.

The silence between us was oppressive, but it wasn't angry. It was. something else. Something I couldn't name.

By the time we'd made it across, I was drenched from the ocean spray, but I didn't care. I pulled the jet ski up onto the dock and walked over to Serafina to help her off, her steps hesitant as she gained purchase.

"We're not done," I said, pushing her towards the villa. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind, but didn't argue. 

Not that it was going to make a difference. We both knew where this was headed.

I didn't stop the moment we stepped inside.

I pushed her up against the wall and kissed her with a desperation that I'd never felt before. It wasn't about pretending anymore.

It wasn't about performing the role we were forced to act.

This was something else-something real.

Her hands were all through my hair, pulling me tighter, as she kissed me back with equal force.

I could taste salt from the sea on her lips and feel the heat between us grow stronger with each second.

"I'm yours," I whispered against her mouth, my hands dropping down her body. "As much as you need me to be. Always."

Serafina didn't respond in words.

She didn't have to.

The way she kissed me, the way she clutched onto me as if I were the only thing between her and an unforgiving earth-that was enough.