**THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE ORDERED ME TO SEND HIS FATHER’S FIRST EMPLOYEE HOME BEFORE THEIR ENGAGEMENT DINNER—BUT WHEN I WALKED HIM INTO THE DINING ROOM CARRYING HIS DENTED LUNCHBOX, LUCA MORETTI LOOKED AT HIS EMPTY BELT AND ASKED, “FRANK… WHO TOOK YOUR KEYS?”** “Put him in a cab.”

Frank gasped, his whole body going rigid in Luca’s arms.

He had carried the guilt of Antonio Moretti’s death for four thousand, seven hundred, and forty-five days. He expected a bullet. He expected exile.

He didn’t expect forgiveness.

“You didn’t kill him, Frank,” Luca whispered, his own tears finally falling, burying his face in the old man’s shoulder. “He saved you. Because you were his family. And you are my family.”

Frank broke down completely, sobbing into Luca’s expensive suit, clutching the younger man’s back as if he were drowning.

“I’m sorry,” Frank wept. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

“I know,” Luca said fiercely, holding him tighter. “I know.”

I stood a few feet away, wiping my eyes, feeling a profound sense of peace wash over the ruined hallway. The ghosts of the past were finally laid to rest.

Ten minutes later, the estate’s private doctor arrived.

He stabilized Marco, treating his fractured ribs and internal bruising. “He needs rest,” the doctor said, packing his bag. “But he’ll survive.”

Marco lay on a plush sofa in the drawing room, a blanket draped over him. Julian sat beside him, holding his grandfather’s hand with both of his small ones.

Luca walked into the room, holding a glass of scotch. He handed it to Marco.

“Drink,” Luca said.

Marco took a weak sip, wincing. “Thank you, Luca.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Luca said, pulling up a chair. He looked at Julian, then at Marco. “Vanessa is gone. The Bellinis have lost their leverage. But they will come back for the port when Julian turns eighteen.”

Marco nodded sadly. “I know. We will have to run again.”

“No,” Luca said firmly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy gold signet ring. It bore the Moretti crest. He held it out to Julian.

Julian looked at it, his big brown eyes wide. “For me?”

“Yes,” Luca said. “I’m legally adopting you, Julian. You are going to become a Moretti ward. Under the protection of this house, no Bellini will ever lay a finger on you. You’ll go to the best schools. You’ll learn the business. And when you turn eighteen, you will run that port.”

Julian looked at his grandfather. Marco’s eyes filled with fresh tears, and he nodded.

Julian took the ring, slipping it onto his thumb. It was way too big, but he smiled brightly.

“Does this mean I don’t have to live in the staff quarters anymore?” Julian asked.

Luca smiled, a genuine, warm smile. “You can pick any bedroom on the second floor, buddy. You’re home now.”

Julian hugged Luca’s neck. The fearsome mafia boss hugged the little boy back, burying his face in Julian’s hair.

I watched from the doorway, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.

Frank walked up beside me. He had changed out of his wet clothes and was wearing his old blue work shirt. He looked lighter. Like a massive weight had been lifted off his spine.

“You did good tonight, Emma,” Frank said quietly.

I looked at him. “Me? I just stood there.”

“You stopped Vanessa from putting me in a cab,” Frank corrected. “If I had left, Marco would be dead, Vanessa would have the port, and Julian would be in an orphanage.”

He reached into his pocket.

“I want you to have this,” Frank said.

He handed me a small, beautiful wooden box. It was hand-carved from dark cherry wood, polished to a high shine.

I opened it.

Inside rested a delicate, silver bracelet. It wasn’t flashy or covered in diamonds like Vanessa’s. It was simple, elegant, and timeless.

“Antonio made the box,” Frank said. “I bought the bracelet for my daughter, years ago. But she passed away before I could give it to her. I think it belongs to you now.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Frank, I can’t take this. It’s too precious.”

“You’re family now, Emma,” Frank smiled warmly. “Family takes care of family.”

I put the bracelet on my wrist. It fit perfectly.

Luca walked out of the drawing room, leaving Marco and Julian to rest. He looked at Frank, then at me.

“Well,” Luca sighed, looking at the water-damaged floors and the ruined decorations. “I guess I have a wedding to cancel.”

“And a mansion to fix,” Frank chuckled.

Luca looked at me. His dark eyes softened.

“Emma,” he said. “If you’re willing to stay… we’re going to need a lot of help putting this place back together.”