Page 124 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“You’ve shown you’re the best man for my daughter. You’ve protected and provided for her. I give you my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“Thank you, Mr. Manning,” Vino replied.

Dad took a seat in the first row.

I looked up at Vino, eyes shimmering as I slid my hand over his injured arm. He refused to wear his sling today. “Thank you for getting my family here for our wedding day.”

“They had to be here,” he said with a smile. “My mom recorded your whole reunion.”

“Vino, you’re going to make me cry again.”

I scanned the beautiful backyard of our home, where friends and family gathered under the late afternoon sun. I was finally free—free to walk down the street without a disguise. Maybe notentirelysafe in New York, but I could grab a slice of pizza without wearing sunglasses and ducking shadows.

I was free to beme.

And soon, I’d be a mother. A hands-on mom. And when work demanded more of me, I wouldn’t hesitate to lean on my husband. I loved that he wanted to be an active dad. Our child was definitely going to be spoiled.

I truly felt like the luckiest woman in the world, having found a second chance at love. My fiercely devoted man would do anything for me, even if it meant burning down the world.

I eagerly anticipated a life with my future husband, Mr. Mafia Boss, Vincenzo Angelo Romano.

VINO

Standing at the altar with the love of my life felt like a moment that was long overdue.

Claire wanted absolutely nothing to do with me if it wasn’t a hook up. I might’ve taken things too far to get my woman, but I was happy I went to great lengths to show her how she should be loved.

Taking care of Ivan and Polina made our wedding day even more special, knowing Claire would never have to worry about them again.

Claire and I recited our vows and exchanged rings. Her fingers slid over the rose gold lapels of my tuxedo. A Claire Ainsley design.

The officiant announced, “You may now kiss the bride.” I cupped Claire’s face, gazing deeply into her eyes. A tear rolled down my cheek. “You deserve the world, Claire. Thank you for allowing me to be the man to give it to you,” I whispered.

Our lips met in a tender, searing kiss. Her arms curled around my neck, and suddenly the crowd, the music, the day itself—all of it vanished. There was only us. Me and my wife, Claire Romano.

I meant what I said. Claire’s designs would soon grace the carpet at The Met Gala.

VINO

A SPECIAL MOMENT FOR US

Holding our newborn son felt like the greatest moment—second only to seeing my wife’s face for the first time. Vincenzo Angelo Romano II weighed in at eight pounds, nine ounces, with a strong set of lungs.

I gazed out the hospital window while cradling him. “The world is yours, little Vino.” His tiny blue eyes fluttered open, and a sweet smile curved his lips. A natural heartbreaker, born with a head full of dark curls.

I eased onto the bed beside Claire. “We did good, huh?”

Claire smiled at me. “We did. He’s so wonderful.”

“Remember, sweetheart, I’ll raise all our children myself.”

Her brows rose. “Vino, my who ha still throbs…too soon.”

“Mommy and daddy are going to give you another sister or brother in the near future.”

Claire chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Vino, to more babies.”

I kissed our son’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

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