And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I don’t feel afraid of the dark anymore.Because I know who walks beside me through it.And he’d burn the world down to keep my light safe.We stay like that, breathing each other in, hearts finally beating in the same rhythm.
Then he takes my hand.“Let me remove and put back your ring, officially.I will get you a new one tomorrow.”
I rip my hand away from his with a playful smile.“Uh-uh, Mr.Dark and Dangerous.I like my ring.I’m keeping it.And there is no way you are removing my ring…”
But then I take a step back and look up at him with a mischievous glint in my eye.“…unless you are fast enough.”
His eyes darken instantly, understanding exactly what I mean.“You try to run from me, little flower, and I swear I’ll give you the spanking of your life.”
I grin.
“Well then,” I whisper, retreating farther, “you’ll have to catch me first.”
And before he can even blink, I am gone, barefoot, laughing, my dress flying behind me as I bolt through the condo.
Behind me, he curses softly, then laughs, low and dangerous.
It’s the sound of a man who has been hunting me since the day we met.
And this time, I’m not running away.I’m running home.
Epilogue
Lily
The garden of the new villa Damiano had built for us is overflowing with white lilies and golden light.It is late afternoon, that perfect hour where the sun turns everything soft and romantic.Cicadas hum lazily in the background, and somewhere behind the hedges, a string quartet plays a slow, lilting version ofCan’t Help Falling in Love.
Fitting.Because I can’t help it.
Not when I look up and see him standing there.
Damiano.
He’s waiting for me beneath a wisteria-draped arch in a suit darker than midnight, his expression anything but composed.He looks at me like I’m every reason he’s ever had to stay alive.The aisle feels endless and far too short all at once, Chiara on one side of me, Erin on the other.My bridesmaids.My sisters, by blood and by heart.
Chiara’s gown is champagne silk, soft and graceful, and she’s trying not to smile, but her gaze keeps flicking to the left, to where Lucas stands next to Damiano, adjusting his cufflinks like they haven’t been staring at each other all morning.
Erin, radiant in copper satin, throws Matteo a look over her shoulder, something between a smirk and a challenge.He raises an eyebrow, pretending not to be intrigued.They are playing with fire and they both know it.
I reach the end of the aisle and Damiano steps forward, hand reaching out.His fingers close around mine, warm and steady.There is something reverent in the way he looks at me, like he still can’t quite believe I am real, that I chose him.But he chose me first.
The ceremony is short, but every word lands like a vow tattooed on my soul.I don’t hear the crowd.I barely see them.I only see him.
When he says “I do,” his voice is deep, low, meant solely for me.
When I say it back, his jaw tightens like he’s fighting emotion.
We kiss.
And the world exhales.
There is applause and laughter and the clink of champagne glasses.Sophia approaches and pulls me into a tight hug, whispering with tears in her eyes, “Welcome to the family,tesoro.Mi figliocould not have chosen a better daughter for me.”
My throat constricts and I hug her back with everything I have.
Someone, probably Lucas, pops open a bottle of vintage Dom, and Chiara ends up with bubbles in her hair.Her outraged shriek makes me laugh out loud.Matteo, for once, actually smiles when Erin mutters something dry about the taste of battery acid and steals his whiskey instead.
Later, after the music swells and the villa glows with candles and low-hung lanterns, Damiano pulls me onto the dance floor.We sway, slow and close, beneath the stars and the sweet smell of lilies.
