THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME WALK INTO HIS LUXURY HOTEL'S GRAND OPENING CARRYING A PAIR OF WORN BROWN WORK BOOTS AGAINST MY CHEST—THEN HIS BUSINESS PARTNER, WEARING A RED SATIN GOWN, SAID

Three years later.

The grand ballroom of the Moretti-Collins Hotel was once again filled with crystal champagne glasses, white roses, and the elite of Chicago.

But this time, nobody was hiding in the shadows.

I stood at the top of the grand sweeping staircase, wearing a floor-length emerald gown, watching the celebration below.

The hotel was hosting its annual charity gala for St. Jude's, a tradition Luca and I had started the night we took the company back.

A lot had changed in three years.

Catherine Bellamy was serving a life sentence in a maximum-security federal prison, her vast fortune seized and redistributed to the families she and Dr. Evans had harmed.

But the biggest change was standing right beside me.

"Stop fidgeting with your tie," I teased, reaching over to adjust the crooked bowtie on the tall, broad-shouldered man standing next to me.

Leo swatted my hands away, laughing.

"I'm not used to wearing a monkey suit, Hannah," he grinned.

My twin brother was unrecognizable from the frail, sickly boy he had been three years ago. The world-class endocrinologists Luca had flown in from Switzerland had worked miracles. With the poison gone and proper hormone therapy, Leo had experienced a massive, rapid growth spurt.

He was now six feet tall, healthy, vibrant, and studying architecture at Northwestern University.

"You look handsome," I smiled, linking my arm through his. "David and Mary would be so proud of you."

Leo’s smile softened. "They'd be proud of you, too. CEO looks good on you."

I squeezed his arm. When we took over the company, Luca had insisted we split the leadership. Luca remained Chairman of the Board, but I was named CEO, managing the day-to-day operations of the hotel empire our father had built.

"Come on," Leo said, gently pulling me toward the stairs. "I think the Chairman is waiting for his dance."

We descended the grand staircase together. The crowd parted, smiling and clapping as we made our way to the center of the ballroom.

Luca was waiting near the dance floor.

He looked incredibly handsome in his black tuxedo, his dark hair slightly graying at the temples, giving him a distinguished, peaceful look.

Standing next to him was a twelve-year-old girl in a beautiful white dress.

Mia had grown into a confident, brilliant young lady. She was holding a small, worn leather sketchbook, constantly drawing the architecture of the ballroom, just like her Uncle Leo.

"Aunt Hannah!" Mia beamed, running over and hugging my waist.

"You look beautiful, Mia," I said, kissing the top of her head.

Eleanor and Thomas were sitting at a table nearby, sipping champagne and laughing at a joke Thomas had just told. Thomas had officially retired, living in a luxury suite on the top floor, treated like royalty by the entire staff.

Luca held his hand out to me.

"May I have this dance, Madam CEO?" he asked, his eyes warm and filled with genuine joy.

"You may," I smiled, taking his hand.

He pulled me onto the dance floor as the orchestra began to play a soft, sweeping waltz.

We moved gracefully across the polished hardwood, the lights of the chandeliers glittering above us.

"You did a great job with the gala tonight," Luca said softly, spinning me gently. "We raised over ten million dollars."

"We did a great job," I corrected him.

Luca smiled, looking around the room. He looked at his mother, laughing with Thomas. He looked at his daughter, showing Leo her sketches.

Then he looked back at me.

"My father used to say that a foundation is only as strong as the truth it's built upon," Luca murmured, his hand resting warmly on my waist. "For so long, this family was built on secrets. On fear. On greed."

I looked up into my older brother's eyes.

"And now?" I asked softly.

Luca’s smile reached his eyes, bright and unbroken.

"Now," Luca said, pulling me into a fierce, loving hug right in the middle of the dance floor, "it's built on us."

I hugged him back, closing my eyes and listening to the music.

I thought about the old brown work boots sitting in the glass case in the lobby. I thought about the silver dove necklace resting against my collarbone.

They weren't just objects anymore. They were proof that no matter how deep the darkness tries to bury the truth, the light will always find a way to break through.

We were the Moretti-Collins family.