Page 114 of The Hidden Heir

We kiss, and it feels like we’re both finally, truly home.

It’s been a month since the Mancuso incident. A month since Luca forcibly retained his leadership over the Camorra and its fractured syndicates. But a lot can change in a month. There is peace between the families now. New trade deals are being drawn up, while a recovering Victor goes over each contract before he gets Luca’s approval to sign them.

“I certainly had a blast,” he says, his lips brushing over mine. “We’ll do it again. This, and more.”

“Oh, I do like your optimism.”

The sun bursts through every window of the house, and it feels as if the sky itself is blessing us with a beautiful day. Even when the clouds come over and the rain falls, our home is still bright and warm, still welcoming and filled with love because of us.

“What happened to Caroline?” I ask, wrapped in my husband’s arms. “You haven’t said a word about her since that day. I haven’t asked either, probably because it was and still is a difficult subject, but I would like to know.”

“She’ll live out the rest of her days in Sicily under heavy guard,” Luca replies, his brow slightly furrowed. “I could’ve ended her, but I don’t think there’s a more fitting punishment for her than what’s ahead: a lifetime of solitude and powerlessness. Whether she’ll actually live through it or find a way to end it is entirely up to her. But Caroline Mancuso no longer exists, as far as I’m concerned. That entire family is gone.”

“And we’re safe.”

He nods once. “We are. And I meant every word I said at the council, too. We’re doing things differently from now on.”

“You’ve certainly kept your word so far,” I commend him. “Victor has a perk in his step too. I’ve never seen that man as lively as he is these days.”

“I was talking about you and I, Valentina. We’re doing things differently, too.”

I laugh lightly. “We definitely are. I mean, we’re actually happy, right?”

“We didn’t start right, though. I need to correct that,” he says. A moment later, he’s down on one knee, holding up a small velvet box.

My heart stops, then my pulse starts racing, and every breath I take is too much for my lungs. “Luca, what are you doing?”

“I never proposed to you.” Flames dance in his eyes, a warm smile stretches across his lips.

I gasp when he opens the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring—round and surrounded by pale green emeralds mounted on a thin, elegant white-gold band.

“Luca…”

“You’ve already made me the happiest man who ever lived, Valentina. Would you like to give me more of that, ’til death do us part?”

“Luca, we’re married.” I giggle and show him the ring on my finger.

“I don’t care. Let’s consider this a fresh start. Let me do right by you, my love, from beginning to the very end.”

“Then yes,” I say as I start crying. “Absolutely yes, a thousand times yes, Luca.”

He exhales deeply, relief washing over his handsome features as he slips the engagement ring beside the wedding band on my finger, then kisses me deeply. I hold him close and pour all my love into this moment, this singular blip in our existence that closes an old chapter and opens a new one, a better one.

“Good, because I would like to spend the rest of my life tasting happiness with you, with Michael, and with our child,” Luca says, one hand resting on my belly.

EPILOGUE I

LUCA

“She looks like an angel,” I whisper.

Victor stands beside me, wearing his best tux for a moment I wasn’t sure would ever come: a real wedding.

“In many ways, to you, she is,” Victor replies.

St. Bartholomew’s chapel is a small but beautiful spot in Little Italy. All the Petruccis were married here, and it felt wrong not to follow one of the few traditions I wish to keep from the olden days.

The ceremony itself makes up for warmth in what it lacks in size. Only the dons and our close family members are in attendance, each of them spruced up in their Sunday best to celebrate this day with us. Father Nunzio’s white and purple robe with golden embroidery shines joyously as he prepares to join us in holy matrimony.