My boss’s six-year-old son pointed at me in a hallway full of dangerous men and announced that I was too beautiful to be alone, so I should become his mommy. Everyone expected Adrian Kane, Manhattan’s most feared crime boss, to shut him down, but instead he asked one quiet question, and his little boy’s answer wiped every trace of color from his face.

One Year Later

The countryside was a painting of vibrant autumn colors. The massive estate sat on fifty acres of rolling hills, miles away from the concrete and shadows of Manhattan.

We had done it.

Using the trust fund, Adrian had systematically bought out the syndicate’s shares in Kane Enterprises. It took months of aggressive, ruthless legal maneuvering, but he had legally severed all ties to the underworld. Kane Enterprises was now entirely legitimate.

I stood on the wraparound porch, watching the breeze rustle the oak trees.

A sudden squeal of laughter broke the peaceful silence.

Noah came sprinting across the lawn, chasing a golden retriever puppy we had adopted two weeks ago. Following closely behind them was David, looking thoroughly exhausted but happier than I had ever seen him.

“Don't let him eat the hydrangeas, David!” I called out, laughing.

“I’m a security specialist, Clara, not a dog whisperer!” David yelled back, diving to tackle the puppy before it reached the flowerbeds.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind. Adrian pressed a warm kiss to my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder. He smelled like cedar and fresh air.

“The caterers are setting up the tent,” Adrian murmured, holding me tight. “The string quartet is here. And your brother is currently losing a wrestling match to a twenty-pound dog.”

“It’s a very aggressive dog,” I smiled, leaning back against his chest.

Today was the day.

We had signed the marriage papers privately months ago, but today was our actual wedding. A celebration for the family we had built. No mob bosses. No bodyguards with hidden weapons. Just our people.

Adrian turned me around to face him. He was wearing a stunning black tuxedo, looking more handsome than I had ever thought possible.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, familiar object.

The silver locket.

“I want you to wear it today,” he said softly.

I took the locket, opening it. The picture of my mother was still there, but Adrian had added a new picture to the other side. A photo of me, Adrian, and Noah, taken the day we moved into this house.

“She would be so proud of you, Clara,” Adrian whispered, fastening the chain around my neck.

I touched the cool silver, a profound sense of peace washing over me.

“She would be proud of us,” I corrected.

A sudden, sharp knock at the front door echoed through the house.

Adrian frowned. “Everyone is supposed to be around back.”

We walked through the foyer and opened the heavy wooden door.

No one was there.

But sitting on the welcome mat was a pristine white box, tied with a black silk ribbon.

Adrian stepped in front of me instinctively, his old instincts flaring to life. He carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

I held my breath.

Inside the box was a bottle of incredibly rare vintage champagne, and a handwritten card.

“To the new Mr. and Mrs. Kane. You fought well. Enjoy the peace. — The Board.”