Page 158 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
"Marry me."
The world narrows.
The wind picks up, rustling through the trees, carrying the scent of roses and smoke. The men around us fade into the periphery. All I see is him—this man, who has fought for me, bled for me, who will never let me go.
The weight of the last few weeks—the battles, the bloodshed, the impossible choices—crash over me.
But standing here, looking at him, there’s only one answer.
"Yes," I whisper.
Then, louder, "Yes."
A slow smile curves his lips before he slides the ring onto my finger, his touch lingering, warm and sure.
And then he’s up, pulling me against him, crushing his mouth to mine, sealing the promise between us.
EPILOGUE: THE LOMBARDI CONNUNDRUM
SOFIA
Ten months later
Nuova Speranza glows beneath the night sky, a city reborn from the ashes of war.
From the balcony of our estate, the lights stretch endlessly, a constellation of gold and silver flickering against the darkness. The chaos, the bloodshed, the war that nearly tore everything apart—it’s over now. Peace has settled over the city, fragile yet firm, and for the first time in a long time, I can breathe.
Marco stands beside me, his presence as steady as the stone beneath my feet. His arm wraps around my waist, his warmth seeping into me, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has. I tilt my head slightly, taking in the strong lines of his face, the way the moonlight catches in his dark eyes. There’s something softer about him these days—not weaker, never that, but lighter, like the weight he carried for so long has finally eased.
His fingers trace slow, absentminded circles against my hip. "You're thinking too much."
I smile, leaning into him. "Always."
The wind shifts, carrying the scent of the water, of salt, and something faintly floral from the gardens below. My city. Our city. So much has changed since the night I tried to run, when I thought I had no future in this world. I used to believe love and freedom were at odds, that I had to choose one or the other.
I was wrong.
I turn in his arms, pressing a hand against his chest. "Can you believe we made it here?"
Marco smirks, one brow lifting. "I can believe it. I just can't believe you let me catch you."
I roll my eyes. "Let you? You nearly burned down half the city trying to keep me in one place."
His low chuckle rumbles between us. "Worth it."
And it was. Every fight, every impossible moment, every night spent wondering if we would live to see the next day—it all led us here.
His hand slides up to cup the back of my neck, his thumb brushing against my pulse. "Come inside,amore mio." His voice is softer now, lower, the way it always gets when it's just the two of us. "I want to see them."
I lace my fingers through his and lead him back inside.
The estate is quiet at this hour, the sounds of the city muffled by thick walls and sprawling land. I guide him through the hallways, past the office where I now work, where my investigations—my writing, my purpose—help strengthen the Salvatore family from the shadows. The men respect me now, not just as Marco's wife, but as someone who belongs here, who has earned her place.
But none of that matters in this moment.
Because at the end of the hall, behind a pair of white wooden doors, lies the heart of my world.
I push them open slowly, stepping into the dimly lit nursery.
