"Okay."
I stepped back and pulled the small box from my pocket. Opened it.
Inside, a simple platinum band with a single perfect diamond—nothing ostentatious, nothing that screamed mob money. Just beautiful, timeless, hers.
"Marry me," I said. "Not when I get out. Not someday. Now. Before I leave. I want to be your husband, not just the father of your children. I want you to be my wife—legally, officially, completely."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Alessio—"
"I know the timing is insane. I know I'm about to leave for six weeks. But Valentina, I've loved you since that motel room. Since you pointed a gun at me with shaking hands and chose to fight instead of giving up. I want to marry you. Please."
"Yes," she whispered. "A thousand times yes."
I slipped the ring onto her finger—perfect fit, like I'd known it would be.
"Tomorrow," I said. "Courthouse wedding. Small. Just Sofia, Domenico, and Livia. The babies. Us."
"Can we even get a license that fast?"
"Montana has no waiting period. We can apply in the morning and be married by afternoon."
"Tomorrow," she agreed, kissing me desperately. "Make me your wife tomorrow, then come home to me as fast as you can."
"I promise,principessa."
The courthouse ceremony was brief and perfect.
Valentina wore a simple cream dress, held Eva while I held Ezio. Sofia cried through the entire thing. Livia recorded it on her phone. Domenico stood as my best man, grinning like he'd won something.
"Do you, Alessio Valestri, take Valentina DeLuca to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do." No hesitation. Complete certainty.
"Do you, Valentina DeLuca, take Alessio Valestri to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do." Her voice was steady, eyes shining.
"By the power vested in me by the state of Montana, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
I handed Ezio to Domenico, cupped Valentina's face in both hands, and kissed my wife.
She was mine. Officially. Legally. Completely.
When we broke apart, the small group erupted in applause.
Sofia hugged us both, careful of Eva between us. "My baby is married. With babies of her own."
"Congratulations, fratello," Domenico said, pulling me into a brief embrace. "You earned this."
Livia just smiled, tears streaming. "Sisters stick together. Even at weddings."
We signed papers, took photos, and celebrated with the champagne Sofia had brought—sparkling cider for Valentina since she was still nursing.
Then we went home.
Our last night together before I reported.
Sofia took the babies for the evening—insisted on it despite Valentina's protests.
