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.**

Six months later, the Moretti estate was unrecognizable.

The heavy, oppressive atmosphere that had choked the mansion during Vanessa’s reign was entirely gone. The dark velvet curtains had been replaced with sheer, bright linens that let the Chicago sunshine pour into the hallways.

I was no longer wearing a black maid’s uniform. I stood in the grand foyer wearing a beautifully tailored emerald-green dress, reviewing a stack of paperwork on a clipboard.

“Emma!”

I turned just in time to catch Lily as she ran down the stairs, throwing her arms around my waist. She was ten now, vibrant and happy, the fear completely erased from her bright brown eyes.

“Hey, sweetie,” I laughed, hugging her back. “Are you ready for your art show tonight?”

“I’m so nervous,” she admitted, showing me a small amount of paint still stained on her fingertips.

“You’re going to be brilliant,” I promised her.

“She gets her brilliance from the women in this house,” a deep, warm voice said from the doorway.

Luca walked into the foyer, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored navy suit. The hard, terrifying edge that used to define his features had softened dramatically. He looked like a man at peace.

He leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead, then stepped over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. My heart still did a familiar, thrilling flutter every time he touched me.

“Everything set for the gallery opening?” Luca asked, resting his hand comfortably on my lower back.

“The caterers are setting up, and Dominic is managing the guest list,” I smiled.

Our relationship had blossomed slowly over the last six months, built on a foundation of profound mutual respect, trauma survived together, and an undeniable, magnetic attraction. He treated me as his absolute equal, and I had helped him completely restructure the Moretti family’s legitimate businesses.

“Speaking of Dominic,” Luca chuckled, looking toward the front doors.

Dominic walked in, carrying a massive bouquet of white roses. He looked healthier, the shadows of his betrayal by Vanessa finally fading from his eyes. He had found purpose in managing the family’s new charitable foundation.

“For the artist,” Dominic grinned, handing the roses to a beaming Lily.

“Thank you, Uncle Dom!” she cheered.

As Lily ran off to put the flowers in a vase, accompanied by the slow, happy hobble of old Bruno, Luca turned to me. His expression grew slightly more serious.

“I received a call from New York this morning,” Luca said quietly, leading me into his private study.

I felt a small prick of anxiety. The Commission. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Luca assured me, closing the oak doors behind us. “Marco Rossi was formally convicted by the High Council. He’s gone for good. But the Commission wants a meeting next week to confirm my undisputed control over the Midwest territory.”

“You’re going to step down, aren't you?” I asked softly, knowing the internal battle he had been fighting for months.

Luca looked out the window at the sprawling grounds. “I want to completely legitimize the family. I want to build hospitals, not casinos. I want to leave a legacy that Lily can be proud of. But if I step down abruptly, a power vacuum will tear the city apart.”

He turned back to me, reaching into his pocket.

“I need to show the Commission that the Moretti family is stronger, more united, and more formidable than ever,” Luca said, his eyes burning with absolute devotion. “I need them to see that I am not building an empire of fear, but an empire of love.”

He didn't pull out a ledger, or a weapon.

He pulled out a small, stunningly beautiful vintage ring box.

“Emma,” Luca whispered, his voice thick with emotion.