Chapter 19 - THE SENTENCE
Matteo pleaded guilty to financial crimes, conspiracy charges, and offenses connected to businesses he had controlled.
The agreement dismissed allegations prosecutors could not prove.
It did not erase the ones they could.
His cooperation dismantled networks across three countries.
Dozens of defendants were charged.
Millions in illegal proceeds were seized.
Victims’ funds were established.
None of it restored Nadia.
Marco.
Noah.
Eli.
Nothing could.
At sentencing, Elena sat in the second row.
Not beside Matteo’s lawyers.
Not presented as evidence of redemption.
She refused.
A man should not receive mercy because a woman loved him.
Matteo agreed.
That mattered.
The judge spoke for nearly an hour.
About power.
Responsibility.
Cooperation.
Harm.
Change.
Consequences.
Then the sentence came.
Forty-two months.
Less than prosecutors originally sought.
Far more than Matteo’s attorneys hoped.
He would surrender in six weeks.
Elena closed her eyes.
Three and a half years.
Sofia would be almost four when he came home.
Matteo did not react.
Outside the courtroom, reporters screamed questions.
Elena ignored them.
Matteo found her in a quiet hallway.
“Sofia?”
“With Mrs. Kovac.”
“Good.”
Neither knew what to say.
Finally, Elena laughed bitterly.
“Forty-two months.”
“Yes.”
“I hate that number.”
“So do I.”
“Do you regret signing?”
“No.”
Immediate.
Certain.
“Not even now?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I regret not doing it before Nadia had to die to make me understand.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“You didn’t kill her.”
“No.”
“But I helped build the world that made Mercer possible.”
He understood nuance now.
Responsibility without false confession.
That was growth Elena could respect.
He reached for her hand.
Then stopped.
“What?”
She asked.
“I don’t want you waiting.”
Elena stared.
“What does that mean?”
“You have a life.”
“Yes.”
“You should live it.”
“I plan to.”
“With or without me.”
She almost smiled.
“You are attempting nobility.”
“It feels terrible.”
“You’re bad at it.”
“I suspected.”
Elena stepped closer.
“You do not get to decide for me.”
A familiar line.
His eyes changed.
She had said it on the plane.
When he first told her she could not go home.
“You’re right.”
He whispered.
“I know.”
“You always enjoy saying that.”
“Very much.”
He smiled.
Then serious again.
“What do you want?”
Elena thought carefully.
“I want to raise Sofia with the people who love her.”
“Yes.”
“I want to work.”
“Yes.”
“I want to open the neonatal support program we discussed.”
“Yes.”
“In Noah and Eli’s names.”
His expression softened.
“Yes.”
“I want to visit Marco’s grave without feeling like I’m betraying you.”
“You never will.”
“And I want to be angry with you when you deserve it.”
“That seems inevitable.”
“It is.”
She touched his face.
“And when you come home, I want to see who you are then.”
Matteo closed his eyes briefly.
Not a promise of forever.
Something stronger.
Honesty about time.
“I can live with that.”
“You better.”
The six weeks passed too quickly.
Matteo spent nearly every hour with Sofia.
Breakfast.
Baths.
Walks.
Bedtime.
He recorded himself reading thirty-seven children’s books.
Elena teased him until she realized why.
Sofia would hear his voice while he was gone.
Then she cried in the bathroom where he could not see.
The night before surrender, Matteo entered Sofia’s nursery.
Elena stood in the doorway.
He placed the bluebird mobile above the reading chair into motion.
Tiny birds spun.
“I used to hate that song.”
Elena whispered.
“Why?”
“Because it was Marco’s last clue.”
“And now?”
She watched Sofia sleeping.
“Now it sounds like everyone who tried to get us here.”
Matteo looked at her.
“Us.”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer.
“Are you sure?”
Elena understood what he was asking.
Not about prison.
About them.
“No.”
He smiled.
“That has become my favorite answer.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because certainty is overrated.”
He touched her cheek.
“I love you.”
It was the first time he said it.
No demand attached.
No expectation.
Elena’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
His eyebrows rose.
She laughed.
Then kissed him.
“I love you too.”
He exhaled.
“Cruel woman.”
“You’ll survive.”
The next morning, Matteo surrendered.
No private motorcade.
No armed guards.
No dramatic farewell.
Elena drove him.
Sofia sat in the back seat.
At the entrance, Matteo held his daughter.
She grabbed his tie.
He let her.
“I’ll see you soon.”
He whispered.
Sofia babbled.
Elena looked away.
He handed the baby back.
Then he looked at Elena.
“I told you once you could never go home.”
“Yes.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Again, you enjoy that.”
“Very much.”
His eyes softened.
“Home should never be something another person forces you into.”
Elena swallowed.
“No.”
“It should be where you choose to return.”
She looked at Sofia.
Then him.
“Then return.”
May you like
Matteo kissed her forehead.
And walked inside.
