THE PHOTOGRAPHS WEREN’T JUST A LIE—THEY WERE A TRAP, AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD PROVE IT.

The floral shop on 5th Avenue smelled of damp earth and blooming lilies.

For three days, I had spent every waking hour cleaning it, painting the walls, and arranging the inventory. Luca had given me the deed, but he had kept his distance, giving me the space to process the massive shift in my life.

I wore jeans and a white t-shirt, my hair tied up in a messy bun. There was no uniform anymore. No hiding the faint, healing scar behind my ear.

The bell above the door chimed.

I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped out from the back room.

Luca stood in the doorway.

He looked entirely out of place in a flower shop. His broad shoulders, his dark Italian features, the imposing aura of power he carried—he looked like a storm walking into a greenhouse.

But his eyes were entirely soft when he looked at me.

“It looks beautiful,” he said, looking around at the vibrant displays.

“Thank you,” I smiled, feeling a sudden flutter of nervousness. “Did you come to buy flowers, or just to check on your investment?”

He walked slowly toward the counter, closing the distance between us. “I came because Leo misses you. He asks for you every night.”

He paused, his voice dropping an octave. “And because I miss you.”

My breath caught. “Luca…”

“I know you needed space, Sophie. I know my world is complicated and dark. But you brought light into it. You brought my family back to me.”

He reached across the counter and gently touched the silver locket resting against my collarbone. His fingers were warm against my skin.

“When Vanessa threatened you in the hallway that night,” Luca said quietly, “I realized something. I realized that if anything happened to you, the empire, the money, the power… none of it would matter.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “I was so scared of you when I first started working there.”

“Are you scared of me now?” he asked.

I looked up into his deep brown eyes. The man who terrified the city was looking at me with complete vulnerability.

“No,” I whispered.

He didn’t hesitate anymore. Luca stepped around the counter. He cupped my face in his strong hands, his thumbs gently wiping away a tear that had escaped down my cheek.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t aggressive or demanding. It was a vow. It was soft, deep, and filled with all the emotion he had kept locked away for years. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the steady, powerful beat of his heart against my chest.

When we finally pulled away, resting our foreheads together, he smiled.

“Come home, Sophie.”