“Varga is dead. Dad will rot in prison for his crimes.”
The moment I dropped that information, time slowed. Vincenzo, strong, fearless Made Man of the city, bowed his head. A stilted breath choked in his throat. “It’s over.”
I squeezed his hand. “It’s over.”
Vincenzo slid his hand into his pocket, pulled out his personal effects, which had been returned to him. “Then I guess we’re free to use this.”
It took a moment while he fumbled with the screen, blinking hard. I didn’t embarrass him by pointing out that a big, hard, ruthless man wasn’t supposed to have moisture glistening in his eyes.
But my underworld prince had gone through hell. I let him have his emotions.
Vincenzo turned on his phone and showed me a resort reservation for two weeks. While the date was wrong, the booking was in our name.
“The private jet can be ready in an hour, and my guys can change the reservation.” Vincenzo stepped close to me. Gone was the haggard, blistered look in that black, bottomless gaze. In its place was a scorching, fierce hunger. “Just say the word, and we’ll be on our way to a Caribbean island.”
Vincenzo leaned down to press his lips against my forehead. “Fourteen days.”
His lips traveledto my cheek. “Sand.”
He kissed my jaw. “Sea.”
He pulled back, our noses nearly touching. “A fresh start.”
“No.” I found his lips. “A new chapter. We have too many memories to wipe the slate clean.”
“Let’s go to the airport then; you can call in sick for work from the plane,” he tugged me toward his bike. I slung my leg behind him, laid my head on his shoulder, and relished the fact that where one thread of our story ended, there was another we could weave as the future unfolded before us. A proper honeymoon after the chaotic wedding was exactly what we needed. A chance to breathe. A place where we could be us—Mandy and Enzo.
Epilogue – Gabriella
The private dining room smelled like garlic, red wine, and money. Thick curtains blocked the windows. The walls were dark wood, polished until they reflected the low light. No menus on the table. No server hovering. This room was for decisions, not dinner.
I was proud of this space. It might not seem like much, but it was my connection to the mob. I kept it just the way Don Morelli liked it. He never had to feel embarrassed bringing business here.
But right now, I wasn’t here as the manager of the restaurant. Behind those sliding doors, Mama Ana’s bustled with life. Somewhere, Vincenzo and Amanda were leaving, their business concluded. They got to escape. To be the happy couple, I knew they were.
Meanwhile, I’d been summoned. And I hadn’t dared bring the unfinished glass of red wine, no matter how badly I might need it.
“Gabriella,” Don Morelli gave me a warm smile. “Take a seat, cara.”
I obeyed.
My father sat across from me. The don sat to his right. A man with red hair, salted by age, sat to his left.
I tried not to stare. The very air reeked with power. But it was the subtle threat, the one that walked out of here, moments ago, with Vincenzo hot on his heels, who left a mark. He’d worn a mask. Why he felt the need to cover half his face made me shiver.
But I didn’t ask.
These kinds of men didn’t ask questions, nor did they appreciate ones being asked of them.
My hands rested in my lap. I could feel my pulse in my fingers. I focused on my breathing and kept my face neutral. That was something my nanny taught me early. Control your expression. Everything else can betray you.
The don cleared his throat. “This will be quick.”
That alone made my stomach tighten.
My father did not look at me when he spoke. He stared at the empty place setting in front of him. “An agreement has been reached.”
The word agreement landed heavy. Permanent. Sharp.
