GET THAT FILTHY DOG OUT OF MY HOUSE! HE'S OLD, USELESS, AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN PUT DOWN MONTHS AGO!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS YOUNG HOUSEMAID IN FRONT OF FORTY GUESTS—BUT WHEN HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER BEGGED HER FATHER NOT TO LET THE DOG GO, LUCA MORETTI ASKED ONE QUESTION THAT MADE HIS FIANCÉE TURN PALE.**

Luca slowly sank down onto one knee in the center of his father’s old study.

The sunlight filtering through the window caught the brilliant, flawless diamond resting inside the velvet box.

“When I met you,” Luca said, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability I had never seen before, “I was a man trapped in a world of violence, trying desperately to protect the only light I had left in my daughter. I didn't believe I deserved happiness. I thought my only purpose was to be a shield.”

Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and overwhelming.

“But you fought for us,” Luca continued, looking up at me with those intense, beautiful dark eyes. “You didn't care about the money, or the danger, or the power. You protected my child when I couldn't. You saw the man beneath the monster.”

He reached out and took my trembling hand, his thumb gently brushing across my knuckles.

“I don't want to build a kingdom if you aren't the Queen sitting beside me,” Luca vowed. “Emma Sullivan, will you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife?”

I couldn't speak. My throat was tight with a joy so profound it felt like I was floating. I nodded frantically, a sob of laughter escaping my lips.

“Yes,” I managed to whisper. “Yes, Luca. A thousand times, yes.”

He slid the stunning diamond ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly.

Luca stood up and pulled me into a fierce, sweeping embrace, kissing me with a passion that erased every dark memory this house had ever held.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling like fools.

“We have a wedding to plan,” Luca murmured against my forehead. “And this time, the bride actually loves me.”

I laughed, resting my head against his chest. “We should probably tell Lily before she finds out from Dominic.”

We walked out of the study hand in hand.

But as we entered the foyer, the happy atmosphere suddenly shifted.

Daniel’s replacement, a loyal security chief named Marcus, was standing near the front doors, looking incredibly tense.

“Boss,” Marcus said, his voice low and urgent.

“What is it, Marcus?” Luca asked, his protective instincts instantly flaring as he subtly positioned himself in front of me.

“A car just pulled up to the front gates,” Marcus reported. “It’s an armored town car with New York plates. The Commission didn't wait for next week. The High Council is here. Now.”

My blood ran cold. The Commission never made unannounced visits unless they were bringing a war.

“Open the gates,” Luca ordered, his jaw setting into a hard, unforgiving line. “Bring them to the main dining room.”

He turned to me. “Go upstairs with Lily. Lock the door.”

“I’m not hiding, Luca,” I said fiercely, squeezing his hand. “I’m your partner. We face them together.”

Luca looked at the absolute determination in my eyes, and a slow, proud smile touched his lips.

“Together,” he agreed.

We walked into the formal dining room, standing side by side at the head of the long mahogany table.

Five minutes later, the double doors opened.

Three elderly men, impeccably dressed in tailored suits, walked into the room. They were the oldest, most ruthless bosses in America. The High Council.

They stopped at the opposite end of the table, their cold, calculating eyes assessing the room.

Then, the man in the center, Don Salvatore, spoke.

“Luca Moretti,” Don Salvatore rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stone. “We have received reports that you are dismantling your illicit operations. You are shutting down the gambling rings. You are cooperating with the unions.”

“I am legitimizing my family, Don Salvatore,” Luca stated calmly, showing no fear.

Don Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. He looked at me, taking in the vintage gold necklace and the new diamond ring on my finger.

“And this woman?” Salvatore asked. “The former maid?”

“My fiancée,” Luca corrected sharply. “And my equal.”

Don Salvatore stared at us for a long, agonizing moment. The tension in the room was suffocating. If he gave the order, a war would tear Chicago apart by midnight.

Then, Don Salvatore did something impossible.