Page 131 of Ruthless Vengeance
I never thoughtI would get to this moment. After everything we’ve been through together, all of the chaos and the bloodshed, being able to officially call Marco De Luca my husband makes this moment even sweeter.
The gardens of the Westchester estate are in full bloom, with soft pink roses twisting along the trellises up the side of the house and strings of warm fairy lights hanging from the tree branches overhead. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft amber glow over the garden.
I stand barefoot in the grass, the hem of the light silk dress I made myself brushing my ankles as I sway gently side to side.
My arms are full as I hold my son Arlo against my chest, his little head resting on my shoulder, and his eyes flutter closed as he fights sleep.
He’s just turned six months old and already, he is the spitting image of Marco, with his head of thick dark hair and eyes to match.
I catch the sound of laughter from across the lawn, and I glance up to see Zoe spinning in circles with Holly and Rosa.
My daughter squeals, her own dark curls bouncing with every turn.
At almost two years old, she’s becoming more and more grown up with each day that passes. She might look like a mini-Marco, but her personality is all me.
She loves coming into my sewing room and dressing up in my designs, telling anyone who will listen that her mama made her dresses.
It warms my heart, and I know she’ll be proud of the route I’ve taken.
Juggling school with two kids is by no means easy, but Marco stayed true to his word and is working more from home to help me.
I’ve still got a long way to go, but I’m also loving every step of the journey.
Zoe calls out for Rosa to spin her around, and her aunt obliges without complaint. Rosa, for all her fire and teenage dramatics, has a heart of gold and has become the best little sister to me and aunt to my children that I could have asked for.
She’s nearly nineteen now and looks every bit the grown woman in her champagne-colored bridesmaid dress that she helped to design.
She looks over and catches my eye, flashing me a wink before taking Zoe and Holly by the hand and dragging them over to the dance floor.
As I watch them, I can barely remember a time when my family consisted of only me and Zoe. She was my whole world, and I couldn’t imagine having room for anyone else.
But now as I look around the patio, I see nothing but family, and my heart is fit to bursting.
My gaze shifts to where Lila sits at a table tucking into a piece of wedding cake with a swaddled bundle in her lap—the other new addition to the De Luca family.
Their daughter, Maria, was born two weeks before Arlo, and is just as spirited and stubborn as her big sister.
Andre leans over Lila’s shoulder and kisses the top of her head, his arm sliding around her waist as he gazes at his wife.
They’re whispering to each other in a language only they seem to understand, and I catch a glimpse of Lila’s soft smile, the kind she reserves just for him.
Andre’s free hand reaches over to stroke Maria’s cheek, and Lila looks up at her husband with such love and adoration in her eyes that it makes my throat tighten.
This is what we fought so hard for, what Andre nearlydiedfor.
A future where all of us are together.
Marco appears beside me a second later, wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing my temple.
My body relaxes at his touch.
“Is he asleep?” Marco’s breath tickles my ear as he leans over to take a look at our son.
I grin. “Finally. He fought it every step of the way.”
“He must get that from you. You never want to sleep either.”
I laugh under my breath. “Only when I’m sleeping next to you.”
