“A BOY LIKE HIM DOESN’T GET TO SIT AT THE MORETTI FAMILY TABLE!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE SNAPPED, KNOCKING MY SEVEN-YEAR-OLD SON’S OLD COMPASS OUT OF HIS HAND. “PICK IT UP AND GET OUT!” SHE ORDERED ME. BUT WHEN THE 36-YEAR-OLD MAFIA BOSS WALKED INTO THE DINING ROOM, HE SAW THE ENGRAVING ON THAT COMPASS AND STOPPED BREATHING. “THAT BELONGED TO MY BEST FRIEND,” HE SAID. MY SON LOOKED UP AND WHISPERED, “MY DAD TOLD ME YOU’D SAY THAT. HE ALSO SAID YOU SHOULD ASK WHY THEY BURIED AN EMPTY COFFIN.”

Chapter 10

“That was my mother’s ring,” Gabriel said softly. “My father put it in the box for Leo. He wanted Leo to give it to the woman he loved.”

Gabriel looked at the ring, then at Mateo.

He walked over and placed the ring into Mateo’s hand.

“You never got to give Maya a real wedding,” Gabriel said. “You bought her a twenty-dollar band from a pawn shop because I was paying you a driver’s salary.”

Mateo stared down at the massive, flawless diamond.

He looked up at me.

My heart did a flip in my chest.

Mateo walked over to me. Right there, in the middle of the sunlit dining room, my tough, scarred, fiercely protective husband dropped to one knee.

Ethan gasped, dropping his fork. “Mommy, Daddy is doing the knee thing!”

I laughed, though tears were already pouring down my face.

Mateo took my left hand. He gently removed the tarnished silver band I had worn every day for eight years.

“Maya,” Mateo said, his voice cracking. “You stayed. You protected our son. You worked yourself to the bone in this house when you thought I was gone. I am not a wealthy man by blood, but you make me feel like the richest man on earth.”

He slid the diamond onto my finger. It fit perfectly.

“Will you marry me again? Without the secrets this time?”

“Yes,” I sobbed, pulling him up by his collar and kissing him deeply. “A thousand times, yes.”

Gabriel clapped loudly, leaning against the table with a massive grin.

Ethan cheered, running over and hugging our legs.

For the rest of the morning, the mansion felt entirely different. The oppressive, dark weight that had hung over the Moretti estate for decades was finally gone.

Later that afternoon, Gabriel ordered his staff to move all of our belongings out of our tiny, cramped apartment in the city.

“You’re taking the East Wing,” Gabriel commanded, refusing to take no for an answer. “It has a private garden for Ethan. And Maya, I expect you to take over the charitable foundation. You have the heart for it.”

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. I was too overwhelmed with gratitude.

As the sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows across the pristine lawns of the estate, I stood on the back patio, watching Mateo push Ethan on a wooden swing.

Gabriel walked out, carrying two glasses of wine. He handed one to me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip.

“No, Maya. Thank you,” Gabriel said, looking out at his cousin and nephew. “You brought the light back into this family.”

Suddenly, Ethan jumped off the swing and came running toward us across the grass.

He held something in his hand.

“Mr. Gabriel!” Ethan yelled, out of breath. “I was digging in the dirt under the rose bushes, and I found something!”

Gabriel frowned. “What did you find, buddy?”

Ethan opened his small, muddy hand.

Resting in his palm was a solid gold lighter, engraved with the initials V.B.

Next Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

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