Chapter 12 - THE MEASURE OF A MAN
Christmas Eve at the Bellini mansion smelled like vanilla and fresh pine.
The grand dining room, once the site of Bianca’s cruel dinner party, was transformed. A massive spruce tree touched the ceiling, covered in crystal ornaments. The long mahogany table wasn't set for sixty-four wealthy strangers. It was set for six.
I was in the kitchen, pulling a tray of warm pizzelles out of the oven. I had spent weeks perfectly recreating Lucia Bellini’s recipe, and the smell alone had brought tears to Isabella’s eyes.
"They look perfect, Emma," Isabella said, walking into the kitchen and stealing a cookie off the tray. She looked radiant, wearing a simple red dress. The haunted ghost of the asylum was entirely gone. She was a mother, whole and happy.
"Leo!" Isabella called out. "Stop running in the hallway!"
Leo skidded into the kitchen, wearing a tiny suit and tie. He grabbed my leg and hugged it tightly. "Aunt Emma, Uncle Nico says it's time to eat!"
Aunt Emma. The words made my heart swell with an impossible amount of joy.
"We're coming, buddy," I smiled, carrying the tray of cookies into the dining room.
My mother was already seated at the table, laughing at a story Mrs. Alvarez was telling about her husband's attempt to fix the plumbing. They had become fast friends, bonding over decades of sewing and surviving Chicago winters.
Nico was standing near the fireplace, pouring wine. He wore a dark sweater, looking relaxed and devastatingly handsome. When I walked in, his eyes locked onto mine, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away.
We sat down for dinner. There was no talk of the syndicate, no whispers of the Commission, no ghosts of the Rossi family. There was just loud, messy, beautiful family.
After dinner, as Leo dragged Isabella to the tree to look at the presents, Nico quietly took my hand and led me out of the dining room.
We walked down the hall to the west wing, stopping in front of his mother's old suite.
"I wanted to show you something," Nico said softly, opening the door.
I braced myself for the empty, ransacked room Bianca had left behind.
But it wasn't empty.
Nico had spent the last two months tracking down every single item Vance had sold from the estate. The cedar chest was back at the foot of the bed. The paintings were hung. The antique sewing armoire was perfectly restored in the corner.
"You found it all," I whispered, walking into the room. It smelled faintly of cedar and vanilla again.
"Almost all of it," Nico said, leaning against the doorframe. "I couldn't find the torn lace veil. Bianca took it to the shop, and we lost it in the chaos."
I smiled softly. I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out a small, delicate object.
It was the scrap of ivory lace Bianca had pinned to the counter with my mother's shears.
"I saved it," I told him, holding it up. "My mother and I spent the last week fixing the torn edges. We turned it into a pocket square."
I walked over to Nico and gently folded the lace into the breast pocket of his blazer.
Nico looked down at the lace, deeply moved. He placed his hand over mine, keeping it pressed against his chest. I could feel his heart beating steadily beneath my palm.
"You didn't just fix my mother's veil, Emma," Nico said, his voice thick with emotion. "You fixed this family. You fixed me."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver box. It was the music box with the carved rose on the lid.
"When Leo opened this in the warehouse, it was empty except for my mother's secrets," Nico said. "I want to put something better inside."
He opened the lid.
There was no false bottom this time. Resting on the red velvet lining was a stunning, vintage diamond ring.
My breath caught in my throat. I looked up into Nico's dark, beautiful eyes.
"I've spent my whole life surrounded by people who lie for power," Nico whispered, stepping closer until there was no space between us. "But you looked a monster in the eye and refused to lie, even when it cost you everything. You are the bravest, most beautiful woman I have ever known. I don't want you to just be my partner in business, Emma. I want you to be my partner in life."
He took the ring from the box and held it between his fingers.
"Marry me, Emma."
Tears spilled over my lashes, but I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
"Yes," I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Yes, Nico."
He slid the ring onto my finger, a perfect fit, and then he pulled me in, kissing me with a fierce, absolute love that promised a lifetime of safety.
From down the hall, we heard Leo's bright laughter ring out, followed by my mother's gentle voice.
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The mafia boss's house was no longer a fortress of secrets.
It was a home. And finally, I belonged in it.
