THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME STRUGGLE TO CARRY A HEAVY SILVER TEA SERVICE WITHOUT STRAIGHTENING MY BACK—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE FELL IN THE WINE CELLAR,” BEFORE HE HAD EVEN ASKED WHY I WAS IN PAIN.

One week later.

The Chicago skyline glowed golden under the setting autumn sun.

The massive Moretti estate was quiet.

There were no caterers. No engagement parties. No armed guards pacing the dining room.

I stood in the grand library, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I wasn't wearing a black housekeeping uniform.

I was wearing a tailored navy dress.

My shoulder was still healing, bound in a tight bandage beneath the fabric, but the pain had faded into a dull memory.

The heavy mahogany doors clicked open.

Luca walked in.

He poured two glasses of scotch at the crystal decanter and walked over to me, handing me one.

"Your mother's physical therapy went well today?" he asked, standing beside me, looking out at the gardens.

"Very well," I smiled. "The doctors say she can go home in two weeks. A real home. The new apartment you set up for us."

"It's the least I could do, Emma."

"You did more than enough," I said softly.

Vanessa and little Leo were safely in Italy.

Falcone was awaiting federal trial without bail.

And the massive syndicate Luca ran was finally at peace.

Luca took a slow sip of his drink, then set the glass down on the windowsill.

He turned to face me.

"Mrs. Carter asked me a question this morning," Luca said, his voice dropping to that low, resonant tone that always made my heart flutter.

"What did she ask?"

"She asked when the new head housekeeper would be arriving."

I looked down at my glass.

"I suppose you'll need one."

"I told her I haven't hired one," Luca said.

He reached out and gently took the glass from my hand, setting it next to his.

He took both of my hands in his.

His thumbs traced the knuckles, strong and warm.

"I don't want you working in this house, Emma," Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that took my breath away. "I don't want you pouring tea. I don't want you carrying trays."

"What do you want me to do?" I whispered.

Luca stepped closer.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

He didn't open it immediately.

"When you stood in that bedroom," Luca said softly, "facing down a woman who could have ruined you, you didn't flinch. When you were trapped in a car with an assassin, you fought back. You saved my life. You protected my home."

He opened the box.

Inside was a simple, breathtakingly elegant diamond ring.

Not a gaudy mafia trophy.

A quiet, beautiful promise.

"I don't want you as an employee, Emma," Luca whispered, brushing a kiss against my forehead. "I want you by my side. As an equal. As my partner."

Tears pricked my eyes, but this time, they were tears of absolute joy.

I looked at the man who had torn down a criminal empire to protect my mother.

I didn't say 'Yes, sir.'

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me.

"Yes, Luca," I whispered against his lips.

He kissed me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, lifting me slightly off the floor.

I was safe.