Page 119 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

“I already knew about the case being dropped.”

I pull back, looking down at her. “How?”

“Mikhail called me this afternoon. He wanted to make sure I knew before the press got wind of it.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

She shrugs, a small smile on her lips. “I figured you had your reasons for keeping it quiet.”

“I wanted tonight to be perfect. No distractions.”

“It was perfect.” She stretches upward to press a kiss to my jaw. “I’m still not sure why you needed to propose again. We’re already married.”

“On paper. This time, it’s real. No contracts, no federal investigations hanging over our heads. Just us.”

“Just us,” she repeats, settling back against me. “I like the sound of that.”

The car pulls up to our building, and I help Elena out. In the elevator, she leans against the wall, watching me with curious eyes.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m trying to imagine what my life would be like if I hadn’t met you.”

“Boring,” I suggest.

She laughs. “Safer, maybe.”

“Less exciting.”

“Definitely less exciting.”

The elevator doors open, and I guide her into our penthouse. The city sprawls below us, a sea of lights against the darkness.

“I have something else for you,” I say, reaching into my pocket.

Elena raises an eyebrow. “Another ring?”

“No.” I pull out a set of keys. “These.”

She takes them, examining the unfamiliar keys with confusion. “What are these for?”

“Our new home. In Tuscany.”

Her eyes widen. “Tuscany? As in Italy?”

I nod. “A villa in the countryside. Far from Philadelphia, far from theBratva…Far from everything.”

“You’re serious?”

“I promised you we would leave this life behind,” I remind her. “I keep my promises.”

“When?”

“Next week. Everything is arranged. Anton will take over here. We’ll start fresh.”

“What about my residency?”

“I’ve spoken with contacts at hospitals in Florence. They’re eager to have you.”

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