Page 67 of Tower of Temptations

"We're a family, Pearl," said Giuliano. "We will take care of you. Just as we took care of each other."

I loved the very sound of it. Each of these men shared a bond. And the wonderful thing was that I was it.

"I'm never letting you go," Nico said.

"Our Pearl," Angelo and Rocco added. I smiled, glowing with contentment.

"I am yours," I said. "Each of you has shown me strength. And I'm excited for the future. To be a mother and to raise the child we've created, someone special to all of us."

Each of the men agreed. We shared small conversations before a satisfied exhaustion took us into sleep. The barriers were gone—we could say and feel anything we wanted with each other. Love had dissolved all boundaries.

We'd be together to face what came next. Providence was about to change—and it would start with us.

EPILOGUE: PEARL

"Piccola, no running in the house!" Rocco's voice carried from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable sound of tiny feet doing exactly that.

"She gets that from you," I heard Angelo tell his twin, amusement clear in his voice.

"Me? You're the one who taught her to climb everything in sight!"

I smiled from my window seat in our library, watching the sunset paint our garden red and gold.

The newspaper on my lap carried another headline about Vittorio's latest appeal being denied: all these months later, and seeing his name behind bars still felt like a dream. Ella had sent me the clipping with a note about justice being served, though we both knew no prison sentence could make up for what he'd done. Still, knowing Alessandro's clinics were shut down, and their victims were getting help through our new rehabilitation program meant something good had emerged from all the darkness.

The immunity deal we'd struck with authorities—our evidence for a clean slate—had given us the chance to build something legitimate from the ashes of the past. A chance we hadn't wasted.

Nan had insisted on running the program herself after retiring from the tower—though "retiring" might be the wrong word when she had a corner office in our downtown building and more energy than half our staff combined. Now, she split her time between overseeing the rehabilitation center and spoiling Sofia rotten. Her son, Thomas, had also joined the program, bringing his medical expertise to help the women heal. It felt right, having them both still part of our family after everything Nan had risked to save me.

The sound of pots clanging made me wince: someone was trying to help Nico with dinner again. He'd gotten fiercely protective of the kitchen ever since appointing himself our family's designated cook, insisting that Sofia needed to grow up knowing "real Italian food, not that American nonsense."

My phone buzzed with Ella's FaceTime call. I sank deeper into my window seat as I answered, and her face filled the screen. "Hey girl, missed your face!" She paused, frowning. "Wait, what's that noise?"

"Kitchen chaos," I flipped the camera to show her Nico trying to maintain order while Sofia 'helped' with dinner. "Three hours and counting of culinary adventures."

"Oh my God." She dissolved into giggles as Rocco unleashed a string of Italian curses while chasing after Sofia. "How did we end up here? Me with my prince charmings and you with your dangerous protectors all playing house?"

I laughed quietly. "At least yours can sing. Mine are tone deaf; well, except maybe Luca."

"Yeah, but can mine disassemble a gun blindfolded?" Her eyes sparkled. "Though I have to say, watching your bad boys turn into overprotective dads might just be the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

"I know. Who would've thought?" I grinned, watching Sofia successfully dodge another attempt at kitchen containment. "And now with the new baby coming..."

"Our lives are ridiculous," she grinned. "And perfect."

"They are." I rested my hand on my belly, smiling at the tiny secret there. "Think we'll ever get used to this?"

"God, I hope not." Her laugh bubbled through the screen. "Normal is overrated anyway."

After we hung up, Vincenzo appeared silently beside me, offering tea the way he always did when I got lost in thought. His fingers brushed mine as he handed me the cup, that subtle touch that was so him, quiet care wrapped in unshakeable strength. "The twins are competing again over who Sofia takes after more," he murmured, his lips curving slightly. The port documents under his arm reminded me how far we'd come—turning shadow empires into legitimate businesses, building something real from the ashes of what Vittorio destroyed.

Speaking of my daughter—a blur of dark curls and yellow dress streaked past the library door, Rocco in pursuit with what looked like tomato sauce on his shirt. Some things never changed.

"Got you, principessa!" Rocco's triumphant declaration was followed by Sofia's delighted squeals.

"Poor bambina," Enzo drawled from where he lounged in the doorway, that devastating grin still making my heart skip even after all this time. "Though she's learning from the best when it comes to enthralling dangerous men." He winked at me, a reminder of how thoroughly we'd all fallen under each other's spells.

The scent of garlic and basil drifted up from the kitchen, along with Nico's voice explaining something about proper sauce technique. Luca had been determined to learn family recipes lately—I'd caught him practicing gnocchi at midnight last week, that fierce concentration on his face melting into joy when I'd kissed the flour off his cheek.

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