The waitress leaned close enough that I could feel her breath against my ear. “You need to leave. Now.” Then I looked toward the r

The morning sun broke through the heavy clouds, pouring golden light across the massive kitchen island of Cashion’s private, legitimate estate in the suburbs.

It had been forty-eight hours since the graveyard.

My shoulder was bandaged and healing nicely. Leo was sitting in a highchair, happily smearing blueberry pancakes across his face. Cashion stood beside him, expertly wiping the syrup with a damp cloth, laughing as Leo tried to feed him a sticky piece of waffle.

It was a picture of domestic peace I had only ever dreamed of.

Dignity restored. Safety secured.

But sitting at the far end of the marble counter was the carved wooden box Russo had given Eli.

I hadn't opened it yet. I was too exhausted, too afraid of whatever ghost Vivienne had left behind.

Cashion walked over, pouring me a cup of fresh coffee. He kissed the top of my head, lingering. "You’re staring at it again."

"I don't know if I want to open it," I admitted, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "What if it's another lie? Another secret?"

Cashion pulled out a stool and sat next to me. The harsh scar on his jaw seemed softer in the daylight, his entire demeanor relaxed. He wasn't wearing a holster anymore. Just a comfortable grey sweater.

"We don't have secrets anymore, Mara," Cashion said firmly, taking my hand. "Whatever is in that box, we face it together."

I took a deep breath, reached out, and unlatched the brass hook.

I opened the lid.

Inside the velvet-lined box lay two objects.

A stack of faded, handwritten letters tied with a blue ribbon.

And a small, black velvet ring box.

I frowned, reaching for the ring box first. I popped it open.

Inside rested a stunning, vintage diamond engagement ring. It was breathtakingly beautiful, an heirloom piece surrounded by sapphires.

I looked at Cashion, confused. "Did Vivienne steal this from your family?"

Cashion stared at the ring. A slow, sheepish blush crept up his neck, something I had never seen on the formidable former syndicate boss.

Reversal.

"Vivienne didn't put that in there," Cashion murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I did. Last night. After you fell asleep."

My heart did a massive somersault. "You put it in there?"

He nodded, turning fully toward me. He took the small velvet box from my hands and gently pulled the ring out.

"I bought this ring three years and one week ago, Mara," Cashion said softly, his dark eyes locked on mine. "I carried it in my coat pocket every single day since you left. I kept it as a reminder of what I lost, and a promise that if I ever found you again, I would never let you go."

Tears blurred my vision.

Cashion slid off the stool, dropping to one knee on the hardwood floor right in the middle of the kitchen.

"I don't have a cartel anymore," he said, holding my left hand. "I don't have an army. All I have is me, my construction company, and a ridiculous amount of love for you and our son. Be my wife, Mara. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost."

A sob broke from my lips. I didn't even hesitate.

"Yes," I cried, pulling him up by his sweater. "Yes, Cashion."

He slipped the heavy, perfect ring onto my finger and kissed me, a deep, soul-shattering kiss that tasted like coffee and absolute devotion.

Leo clapped his sticky hands from the highchair. "Yay! Mama!"

We laughed, pulling apart just enough to look at our son.

"We have a wedding to plan," Cashion smiled, resting his forehead against mine.

But as my eyes drifted back to the open wooden box on the counter, I saw the stack of letters tied with the blue ribbon.

"What about those?" I asked, reaching for them.

I untied the ribbon. The handwriting on the envelopes was elegant, sweeping, and undeniably familiar.

It was my mother's handwriting.

And every single envelope was addressed to Cashion.

I looked at my fiancé in shock. "My mother wrote to you?"