Just awe.
If circumstances had been different, Celine could have been here.Once, I’d thought of her as family.
She survived—barely.She testified fully.The courts called it cooperation.I called it penance.She lost her career, her reputation.
But she lived.
And in the end, she told the truth.
That mattered.
As for the money—
The three million never went back to the Vincenzos.
International authorities seized it, froze it, and after months of litigation and careful distance, it was reclassified as recovered criminal assets.Most of it disappeared into government hands.
But not all.
A portion—legally awarded through restitution and unassailable safeguards—was placed into irrevocable trusts.
For Morgan.
For Michelle.
Clean.Untouchable.Protected.
The past didn’t get to own their future.
Creed found me standing beneath one of my mother’s paintings later, his hand warm at my back.
“You okay?”he asked.
I nodded, watching my mother laugh with a stranger who admired her work.“I am.”
And for the first time in forever, I knew it was true.
Six months ago, I was unraveling.
Tonight, I was standing still—rooted, steady, surrounded by the people who mattered.
The past hadn’t vanished.
But it no longer defined me.
Love did.
And this time, it wasn’t something I had to survive.
It was something I was allowed to keep.
Creed guided me toward a quiet corner beneath one of the gallery’s largest pieces.
“Thank you for this,” I said.He would never fully understand how much tonight meant—to me, to my mother.
“I wanted to give her this night,” he said.“But I also wanted to give you something.”
My pulse quickened—not fear.Anticipation.
