THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME GUIDE A BLIND OLD MAN INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH BLOOD ON MY COLLAR—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE FELL ON THE CHAPEL STEPS,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY MY LIP WAS SPLIT. "Take my arm, sir. Just three more steps."

Six months later, the Chicago winter had thawed into a bright, beautiful spring.

I sat at a patio table outside a bustling café in Rome, sipping a cappuccino. The Colosseum loomed in the distance, bathed in golden sunlight.

I was no longer a housekeeper. Thanks to the massive reward fund established by the FBI for the recovery of the Moretti ledger, my father’s medical bills were completely paid for, and he was currently back in Chicago, healthy and tending to his garden.

A small hand tugged on my sleeve.

"Aunt Emily!" Leo beamed, holding a massive scoop of gelato that was rapidly melting onto his fingers. "Look! I got chocolate!"

"I see that, buddy," I laughed, handing him a napkin before he ruined his pristine white shirt.

Vanessa walked out of the café, wearing oversized sunglasses and a chic summer dress. She looked completely relaxed, the tension of the past nine years entirely erased from her posture.

"He managed to charm the vendor into giving him double," Vanessa smiled, sitting down across from me. "He definitely has Michael's charm."

"And your stubbornness," a deep, warm voice said from behind me.

Luca placed his hands gently on my shoulders, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my cheek. He was wearing a casual linen shirt, his dark hair ruffled by the Italian breeze. The mafia prince was gone; in his place was a man who had finally found peace.

"Did you get the tickets?" I asked, looking up at him.

Luca smiled, pulling a pair of glossy ferry tickets from his pocket.

"Two tickets to the Amalfi Coast," Luca said, his eyes locking onto mine with a promise that made my heart flutter. "Vanessa and Leo are taking the train to Florence to see the art. It's just you and me for the weekend."

I reached up and touched the diamond necklace resting against my collarbone. It felt like a blessing from Isabella herself.

We had survived the darkness of the Moretti empire. We had exposed the rot, buried the ghosts, and reclaimed the dignity that Silvio had tried to steal from all of us.

Leo giggled, eating his gelato as Vanessa wiped his face. They were safe. They were a family.

Luca held out his hand. I took it, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip.

"Ready to go?" he asked.