Now I see fathers doting on children, wives teasing husbands, cousins sharing inside jokes.
They're a family, bound by something stronger than blood or business.
"Feeling overwhelmed?" Dom asks quietly.
"The opposite," I admit. "I feel... like I belong."
And it's true.
For the first time since my father died, I'm surrounded by people who understand loyalty and sacrifice.
Who would do anything to protect their own.
Dom's fingers intertwine with mine. "You do belong. With me. With us."
EPILOGUE
Dom - Christmas One Year Later
I step out of the car into the crisp December air, carefully lifting the carrier holding Nicolo while Olivia gets Mateo. My boys, not even six months old, bundled up against the cold like tiny emperors in their matching outfits.
"Ready?" Olivia asks, her breath visible in the winter chill.
"As I'll ever be." I smile at her, still struck by how beautiful she looks, especially now as a mother. Her FBI days feel like another lifetime.
The Calabresi mansion glows with Christmas lights. Inside waits La Corona. There was a time when I couldn't have imagined this scene: me, with a wife and children, arriving for Christmas dinner with the men I call brothers and their families.
We walk up to the door, and I recall last Christmas, Olivia newly pregnant, newly mine, and everything so uncertain. Now, Nicolo squirms in his carrier, his dark eyes like mine, taking in the twinkling lights with fascination.
"They're going to spoil them rotten," Olivia says, nodding toward the house where Elena has already spotted us through the window and is waving excitedly.
"Like we don't?" I laugh.
The twins were born in July, a little early but strong. Fighters like their parents. I named Nicolo after my grandfather, and Olivia chose Mateo after her father. Perfect symmetry, honoring both sides of their heritage.
As we reach the door, I pause to look at my family. My wife, who once wanted to put me behind bars.
My sons, who will never know the darkness I've known.
This past year has been nothing short of miraculous. A New Year's Eve wedding. Watching Olivia's belly grow. Holding my boys for the first time.
"What?" Olivia catches me staring.
"Nothing. Everything. Just... perfect."
She smiles at me. “You’re such a marshmallow sometimes.”
“You like marshmallows.”
“I love them.”
Inside, the chaos hits like a wave. Laughter, shouts, music, and the patter of small feet racing across marble floors.
Elena's triplets, now seven, are leading the charge with Angelica, who's grown so much this past year.
At ten, she's taken on the role of ringleader, organizing all the little ones into some elaborate game involving tinsel as medals.
"Uncle Dom!" Rocco spots me first, breaking from the pack to barrel toward us.
