The most powerful mafia boss in Texas watched me feed his trembling mother while an entire restaurant pretended not to notice her struggle. When he started walking toward me with two armed-looking men behind him, I was certain I had crossed a line I didn't understand. Instead, he placed a black business card in my hand and said quietly, “Tomorrow, your old life ends.”

Six months later.

The Texas sun felt warm against my face as I sat on the porch swing of the sprawling Hill Country estate.

I held a mug of coffee, watching the horses graze in the distance. The air smelled like sweetgrass and rain. It was peaceful. A kind of peace I hadn't known since I was a child.

The heavy wooden front door creaked open behind me.

Slowly, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane, Gabriel stepped out onto the porch.

He moved stiffly. The sniper’s bullet had missed his spine by a fraction of an inch. He had spent three weeks in a coma and four months in grueling physical therapy. But he was alive.

He walked over and sat beside me on the swing, letting out a long, contented breath.

“You shouldn't be walking without your brace,” I scolded gently, though I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face.

“I’m stubborn,” Gabriel smirked, his gray eyes soft as he looked at me. He reached over, his large, warm hand covering mine.

Everything had changed in six months.

Using the microchip hidden in my father’s watch, Gabriel had systematically dismantled his own criminal empire. He turned over the cartel ledgers, the corrupt politicians, and the trafficking routes to the federal government. In exchange for total immunity for himself and his men, he burned the Vance syndicate to the ground.

He was no longer a mafia boss. He was just a man.

A man who had adopted my niece.

“Daddy!”

The screen door flew open, and Maya came bounding out onto the porch, wearing a pair of oversized cowboy boots and a bright yellow sundress.

Gabriel dropped his cane, holding his arms wide. He winced slightly as Maya crashed into his chest, but he hugged her fiercely, burying his face in her curls.

“Look what I found!” Maya beamed, holding up a perfect, intact butterfly wing she had found in the garden.

“It’s beautiful, mi ratoncita,” Gabriel whispered, kissing her forehead.

Maya giggled and ran off the porch to show the gardener her prize.

I watched her go, a lump forming in my throat. She was safe. She didn't flinch at loud noises anymore. She didn't hide in closets. She knew she was fiercely, unconditionally loved by the man sitting next to me.

As for Sarah, she was gone. The feds were hunting her, but I knew in my bones I would never see her again. She had chosen her path. I had chosen mine.

Clara had survived her gunshot wound, but she was now serving a twenty-year sentence in a federal penitentiary for her role in my father’s death. Gabriel had refused to protect her, choosing justice over blind loyalty.

But he had made sure my father’s name was cleared. Thomas Morgan was publicly recognized as a whistleblower, a hero who had died trying to stop monsters. The crushing debt I had carried for years was wiped away, replaced by a trust fund Gabriel had set up in my father’s name.

Gabriel squeezed my hand, pulling my attention back to him.

“Where are you right now?” he asked softly, tracing the line of my knuckles.

“I’m right here,” I smiled, leaning my head against his broad shoulder.

“Good,” Gabriel murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss into my hair. “Because I'm never letting you go, Emily.”

I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of Maya laughing in the garden, and the steady, strong heartbeat of the man who had burned his own world down just to keep us safe.