Eventually, as the night begins to wind down and some of the older guests start making their exits, Liana tugs on my hand and tilts her head toward the French doors that lead to the terrace, her expression asking a question without words.
We slip away from the celebration, escaping into the relative quiet of the terrace with its view of the city spread out below us. The air is cooler out here, a refreshing change from the warm press of bodies and celebration inside.
"We did it," Liana says, leaning against the railing and looking out at the city with wonder in her voice.
"We did," I confirm, coming to stand beside her and wrapping my arms around her from behind, pulling her back against my chest.
"We're actually married," she says, like she's still testing the reality of it, making sure it's real and not some elaborate dream.
"Yes," I agree, resting my chin on top of her head. "Legally bound together for the rest of our lives. You're stuck with menow, Mrs. Marcello. No escape clause. No exit strategy. Just us, building a life together."
"How does it feel?" she asks, turning in my arms to face me properly.
"Perfect," I say honestly. "Like every choice I made before this was leading me to exactly this moment."
"What happens now?" she asks, her expression equal parts excited and nervous about the future we're stepping into together.
"Now?" I consider the question, thinking about all the challenges and joys and complications that come with being married to someone as brilliant and independent as Liana. "Now we figure out how to run two crime families without killing each other."
"Sounds fun," she says with that spark of mischief I love.
"It will be," I promise. "We'll fight and drive each other absolutely insane at times."
"I'm counting on it," she says, echoing my own words back to me.
We stand there together on the terrace, wrapped in each other and the peaceful quiet of the night, watching the city lights twinkle below us like promises of the future we're building together.
"Santino?" Liana says softly.
"Yes?"
"Thank you," she says, her voice carrying all the weight of everything we've been through to get to this moment. "For loving me even when I was doing everything I could to make you hate me."
"You're worth it," I tell her. "You're worth changing my entire life for. You're worth everything."
Inside the ballroom, the party continues without us—music and laughter and family celebrating the union of two families that started as a business arrangement and became something infinitely more valuable. But out here on the terrace, it's just the two of us, Santino and Liana Marcello, beginning our life together in the quiet space between one chapter ending and another beginning.
"Ready to go back inside?" I ask eventually, knowing we should return to our guests even though I'd be content to stay here with her indefinitely.
"In a minute," she says, resting her head on my chest and listening to my heartbeat. "Let's stay here a little longer. Just the two of us, before we have to go back to being the happy couple everyone expects us to be."
"We are the happy couple," I point out. "That's not an act."
"I know," she says with a smile in her voice. "But out here, we're just Santino and Liana. Not the heirs to two powerful families. Just us. I like that feeling."
"I like it too," I admit, tightening my arms around her.
So, we stay there on the terrace, holding each other and watching the city and beginning our life together in the peaceful quiet that exists between one moment and the next.
Not because we have to, but because we choose to—every single day, for the rest of our lives.
Epilogue: Liana
Day three of our honeymoon, and I still haven't seen anything of the Amalfi Coast except the view from our private villa.
Not that I'm complaining.
I'm lying on a lounger by our infinity pool, completely naked, letting the Italian sun warm every inch of my skin while the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below creates a peaceful rhythm that's better than any meditation soundtrack.
