THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME CROSS HIS DINING ROOM ON MY TOES

Six months later.

The morning sun poured through the massive bay windows of the east wing dining room, warming the Italian marble floors.

I wasn’t wearing an apron. I wasn’t wearing a black uniform, and I certainly wasn’t wearing cheap shoes stuffed with napkins.

I was wearing a silk blouse and cashmere trousers. My hair was down.

I poured myself a cup of coffee from the silver carafe on the buffet table. I poured it perfectly flat on my feet. No pain. No limping.

“Mom! Look!”

I turned around.

Toby came sprinting into the dining room. He wasn’t in Spider-Man pajamas anymore. He was wearing a tiny, perfectly tailored navy blazer.

He was running, full speed, and breathing perfectly. The top-tier specialists Luca had flown in from Boston had completely managed his asthma.

“No running in the dining room, Toby,” I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee.

“But Uncle Luca said I could!” Toby protested, skidding to a halt.

Right on cue, Luca walked into the room.

He was wearing his usual dark suit, but the harsh, lethal edge that always seemed to surround him was gone. He looked relaxed. He looked happy.

“I said he could run in the hallway, not the dining room,” Luca corrected, ruffling Toby’s hair. “Don’t put words in the boss’s mouth, kid.”

Toby giggled and ran off toward the kitchen to find the chef, who constantly spoiled him with fresh pastries.

Luca walked over to the buffet and poured himself a cup of coffee.

He leaned against the table, looking at me.

“You look beautiful this morning, Rachel,” he said casually.

I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks. “Thank you. You look… less intimidating than usual.”

Luca laughed, a rich, deep sound.

The last six months had changed everything.

Thomas and Mrs. Gable had confessed to everything. The Rossi family had been dismantled quietly and ruthlessly by Luca’s organization. There were no more threats. No more secrets.

I had been given David’s rightful share of the estate. I wasn’t an employee. I was an equal partner in the legitimate side of the Moretti holdings.

But more importantly, Toby had a family. He had an uncle who taught him how to play chess, how to throw a baseball, and how to stand up for himself.

“We have a board meeting at ten,” Luca said, checking his heavy steel watch. “The downtown hotel renovation is finished. They need your signature on the final designs.”

“My signature?” I asked, surprised.

“You’re the head of the real estate division now,” Luca smiled. “It’s your project.”

I looked down at my coffee cup, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Luca… I never properly thanked you,” I said softly. “For everything.”

Luca set his cup down. He walked over to me, stopping just inches away.

“You gave me my brother back, Rachel,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. “Every time I look at Toby, I see David. You don’t owe me anything. I owe you.”

He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

His touch sent a warm shiver down my spine.

Over the last few months, our relationship had shifted. The trauma we shared had forged a bond that went far beyond family obligation. There were lingering looks. Quiet moments in the study. A deep, unspoken understanding.

“Are you ready for the meeting?” he asked, his hand lingering near my cheek.

“I am,” I said, looking up into his dark eyes.

Suddenly, Toby ran back into the room, holding a massive chocolate croissant.

“Uncle Luca!” Toby yelled, his mouth full. “The chef said we can go ride the horses after the boring meeting!”

Luca dropped his hand, smiling at the boy.

“Is that so?” Luca said. “Well, we better get the boring meeting over with, then.”

Toby cheered and ran off again.

I laughed.

Luca offered me his arm.

“Shall we, Mrs. Moretti?” he asked playfully.

I looped my arm through his.

“We shall, Mr. Moretti.”