"The paperwork matters. It means I can't go back. Can't change my mind. Can't wake up one day and decide to return to the Romanos." I met his eyes. "It makes this permanent. Irrevocable. Mine."
"Ours," Matteo corrected. "This is ours. You're mine and I'm yours and we're doing this together."
"Ours," I agreed.
We lay back down. Tangled together. Both overwhelmed by everything that had happened in one impossible day.
The verdict. The celebration. The proposal. The promise of a future we thought we'd lost.
"I can't believe this is real," I whispered. "This morning I was preparing to lose you to prison. Tonight I'm engaged. How did we get here?"
"Reasonable doubt. Diana's brilliant defense. A jury that actually questioned the evidence instead of accepting it blindly." Matteo's arms tightened around me. "Luck. Fate. Whatever you want to call it. We got impossibly lucky, Stefan."
"We did." I pressed closer. "And I'm not wasting it. I'm not taking a single day for granted. We're getting married and building a life and having all the years we thought we'd lost."
"Yes. All of that. Starting now."
I fell asleep in Matteo's arms. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Happier than I'd ever been.
Once, I was Giuseppe Romano's forgotten son. A pretty face at charity events. Property to be used and discarded when convenient.
Now, I was Matteo DeLuca's fiancé. A valued member of the Vitale organization. Someone who'd chosen his own path instead of following the one assigned by blood and birth.
The journey from prisoner to partner to fiancé had been insane. Probably unhealthy. Definitely complicated. Most therapists would have a field day analyzing it.
But it was my journey. My choice. My life.
And I'd never been more certain of anything.
CHAPTER 18: MATTEO
THE CEREMONY WASsmall. Intimate. Exactly what we'd wanted.
One of the private rooms at Inferno, converted for the occasion. White flowers—Stefan's choice. Simple but elegant. Natural light from the high windows. Nothing ostentatious. Nothing that screamed mob wedding.
Just us and the people who mattered.
Sandro and Emilio stood together near the front. Emilio's hand rested on Sandro's back—casual intimacy that spoke of a future together. They'd almost lost this. Almost lost each other to federal prison. The relief was still fresh in both their eyes.
Elio stood to the side, perfectly composed as always. But I could see the faint tension in his shoulders. The trial had affected all of us. We were still processing that we'd actually won. That we got to keep our lives.
Luca was there too, grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had in months. "Never thought I'd see you get married, DeLuca," he'd said earlier. "Thought you were married to violence and control."
"Found something better," I'd replied.
Diana Martinez stood near the back. She'd kept us all out of prison. Made this possible. Without her brilliant defense, I'd be in federal custody right now instead of getting married. She deserved to be here.
The officiant was a judge Diana knew. Discreet. Someone who wouldn't ask questions about why a Romano was marryinga Vitale. Someone who'd make this legal and binding and permanent.
I stood at the front in my charcoal suit. Custom tailored. Simple. Masculine. Waiting.
The door opened.
Stefan walked in.
My breath caught.
He wore midnight blue—the color made his green eyes striking. Sharp. Beautiful. The suit fit perfectly, highlighting his lean frame. His light brown hair was styled carefully. His expression was composed but I could see the emotion underneath.
