Chapter 7 - The True VowSix months later, the Manhattan skyline was draped in the brilliant, golden hues of an autumn sunset, but the view from the penthouse looked entirely different than it had on the rainy night of our courthouse wedding.
There was no legal contract locked in a safe anymore, no looming threat of Russian syndicates, and no debt hanging over my family like a guillotine. Petrov’s empire had crumbled within weeks of the island siege, dismantled piece by piece by federal authorities using the very ledger my father had hidden—a ledger Antonio had handed over to the DOJ in exchange for total, permanent immunity and protection for Clara and me.
Clara was currently studying art history in Paris on a fully paid scholarship arranged by a very thorough brother-in-law, and my father’s name had been quietly cleared of the false embezzlement charges.
I stood on the expansive balcony of our penthouse, wearing a flowing white silk dress that actually had flowers embroidered along the hem. Behind me, the soft clink of champagne flutes signaled footsteps approaching. Strong, warm arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against a solid, familiar chest that felt like home.
“You’re standing out in the cold again, Mrs. Russo,” Antonio murmured into my hair, pressing a warm kiss against the crook of my neck.
I leaned back against him, turning my head to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m not cold anymore, husband. Not since you dragged me to a private island and forced me to see the truth.”
Antonio chuckled, a rich, deep sound that vibrated against my back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal a magnificent wedding ring glittering with diamonds and deep green emeralds—far more extravagant than the simple gold band we had rushed through in that dreary downtown courthouse six months ago.
“We never did do this right,” Antonio said softly, turning me around so I was facing him. His dark eyes were shining with a profound, quiet devotion that he reserved only for me. “No flowers. No guests. No real vows.”
My breath caught in my throat as he slipped the stunning new ring onto my finger, right beside my original band.
“Do you take this terrifying, possessive mafia boss as your lawfully wedded husband?” he asked, a rare, teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, “to love, tolerate, and argue with for the rest of your days?”
I laughed through a sudden shimmer of happy tears, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to my level.
May you like
“Only if you promise to never, ever plan a surprise trip without telling me what to pack first,” I whispered against his lips.
“Deal,” Antonio murmured just before his lips crashed down onto mine in a passionate, sealing kiss, washing away every ghost of our past and cementing a future that belonged entirely to us.
