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We broke apart, but our gazes remained locked together, and the intensity and sincerity in her eyes left me breathless.
“Alex,” She murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “I love you.”
I smiled. Who would’ve thought all of our fighting and bickering and my being forced to take care of her would lead to this, us together, side by side, as soon-to-be husband and wife?
And I didn’t care what anyone said, having her legally bound to me was making me happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
I intertwined my fingers with hers, then turned and looked at my brother and my best friend.
No matter what challenges lay before us—be it some Russian asshole, my risky future with the Morettis, Vince Salvini demanding an arranged marriage, or any other obstacle that fate might throw in our path—we would overcome them all, hand in hand and heart to heart.
Together.
EPILOGUE
“Knock, knock.” I didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, I barged into the Donnelly’s library, which looked in line with their classic Boston town house and found Jemma, with her laptop on her lap, lying on a dark brown leather sofa in the sitting area.
I looked at her for a second. She had the wig in place, with a ballcap on top and headphones over her ears. So she wouldn’t have heard me anyway.
From my vantage point, I couldn’t see her face, but she looked absorbed in whatever she was doing.
I crossed the room, then pulled the headphones off. “Hey, friend.”
She gasped, grabbed her hair, and stared at me as if I was a ghost. When she realized it was me, her shock transformed into astonishment. “Fee? What are you doing here?”
I rounded the sofa, pushed her feet to the side, then sat down opposite from her—the leather was incredibly soft. “What do you mean? Did you think I’d just leave you to your fate?”
She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
She looked pale—had she lost even more weight?
Not good.
What was Uncle Craig thinking? I’d never thought he would go through with such an asinine suggestion.
And what had gotten into Vincenzo Salvini?
On the way from New York, Alex and Matt had tried to talk some sense into Vince.
To no avail.
He remained hard as stone, and also refused to give any reason beside of the ‘an alliance is good for the family’ spiel.
Not that I thought this wedding would really happen, since Matt was dead set against it. And I would bet everything I’ve got on Jemma sharing his sentiment.
“Talk to me. Tell me, what’s been going on?”
Jemma scoffed. “My father has officially lost his mind. Vincenzo Salvini went completely off his rocker. And I’m not marrying anyone. That basically sums it up.”
I grabbed her feet and put them on my lap. “Back in Ireland, you told me you thought Vince Salvini knows something. What does he know?”
Jemma locked eyes with me. “I don’t know for sure,” she whispered, then pointed at her laptop. “But I think he might’ve found out about my little side project.”
And then the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.
He knew. That’s what she meant.
Vincenzo Salvini knew about Jemma’s hacking. She’d targeted the Salvinis and did god-knows-what. And Vincenzo Salvini knew?
