Page 51 of Twisted Vows

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The next morning, the sun bled through the sheer curtains, painting the room in golden hues. Isla stirred against thewarmth wrapped around her, her body sore in the best way possible. Matteo’s arm was draped over her waist, his grip firm even in sleep, as if he refused to let her go even now.

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was peace. No running, no fear. Just them.

She turned slightly, brushing her fingers against his jaw, tracing the lines of his face. As if sensing her, Matteo’s eyes flickered open, still heavy with sleep, but sharpening the moment they met hers.

"You stayed," he murmured, his voice husky.

A small smile played on her lips. "I wasn’t planning on leaving."

Something shifted in his expression. Something raw, unguarded. "You’re mine, Isla. Say it."

She didn’t hesitate. "I’m yours."

His grip tightened, his forehead pressing against hers. "I love you."

The words were a confession, an oath, something sacred between them. Isla’s breath caught, her heart pounding, but there was no fear, no hesitation. Because she knew the truth now.

She cupped his face, letting the words settle between them before she whispered, "I love you too."

Matteo exhaled, something easing in his chest as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I’ve never said that to anyone."

She smiled softly. "I know."

He tilted her chin up, his dark gaze searching hers. "You changed everything."

She traced her fingers down his arm, letting her touch ground them both. "And you let me."

For once, there were no battles left to fight, no ghosts lurking in the corners. Just them, wrapped in the quiet promise of something more than power, more than survival.

Matteo reached for her, his hand sliding against her bare back as he pulled her closer. "We build from here. We make sure no one ever questions us again."

She nodded. "Together."

He kissed her, slow and deep, sealing the vow between them. It wasn’t just love. It was a pact, a promise written in the ashes of what they had destroyed.

They had fought against each other, bled for each other, and now, there was only one thing left.

To rule.

Together.

An empire built not just on ruin, but on choice. On the only thing that had ever truly mattered.

Love.

Epilogue

The world had been left in ruins after the war, but Matteo and Isla had emerged victorious. The DeLuca empire was still standing—battered, bloodied, but not broken. Now, it was theirs to rebuild, not from the remnants of the past, but with a new foundation, one built on their rule.

Standing at the balcony of their villa, Isla looked down at the men gathered in the courtyard. Some were loyalists, those who had stood beside Matteo from the beginning. Others were remnants of fallen factions, men who had surrendered or switched sides in the wake of Enzo and Leonardo’s deaths. They were here for one reason—to see who ruled now, to understand who held the power in the aftermath of war.

Matteo stood beside her, his presence as commanding as ever, but there was something different now. He wasn’t just a leader; he was the ruler of this world. And she was no longer just a woman tied to his fate—she was his equal. His queen.

"They’re waiting," he murmured, his voice steady, unwavering.

Isla took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. The woman she had been when this all started—the woman forced into a marriage for power, for survival—was gone. She wasn’t here because she had to be. She was here because she had chosen this. Chosen him.