Chapter 8 - After the Storm
Three weeks later.
The summer sun washed over the gardens of the Russo estate in brilliant waves of gold. The white roses were in full bloom, filling the sweet afternoon air with fragrance.
In the east wing, the grand doors were wide open.
Camila sat in a white wicker chair on the sunny patio, wearing a beautiful silk dress, sipping fresh lemonade while humming along to an Italian melody playing from a record player nearby.
Inside the suite, Nora stood in front of a full-length mirror.
Her left arm was supported by a sleek black sling, but her face was full of healthy color. She wore a simple, stunning emerald green dress that accentuated her dark eyes and radiant skin.
The door opened softly, and Vincent walked in.
He was dressed in a sharp black suit, but he wore no tie. His dark hair was brushed back, and the heavy, grim lines that used to carve his face were remarkably softened.
He walked over, stopping behind her in the mirror, his large hands gently resting on her waist.
"How is the shoulder?" Vincent asked softly, resting his chin lightly on her head.
"It aches when it rains," Nora replied, turning slightly in his arms to look up at him. "The doctor said I’ll be out of the sling in two weeks."
"Good," Vincent said, a soft smile appearing on his face. "Because my mother is demanding you join her for a walk in the garden, and she refuses to let Paulie escort her."
Nora chuckled softly. "Paulie isn't very good at step-tapping."
Vincent’s smile broadened, but then his expression grew thoughtful, his dark eyes searching hers with intense devotion.
"Carmine Gallow’s organization has been completely dismantled," Vincent said quietly. "Beatrice is facing federal prison for thirty years. The High Council has recognized the Russo family as the sole authority on the East Coast. There will be peace in this city for a long time."
Nora touched his cheek softly. "And what about you, Vincent? Do you have peace?"
Vincent looked down at her—at the woman who had walked into his cold, blood-soaked world, who had bled for his mother, fought for his family, and taken a bullet to save his life.
"I never knew what peace was," Vincent confessed, his voice thick with emotion, "until you stepped onto that broken glass."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-lined box.
Nora’s breath caught in her throat.
Vincent didn't drop to one knee with grand theatricality; he simply held the box between them, opening it to reveal a breath-taking ring—a flawless, emerald-cut diamond set in platinum, glowing warmly in the afternoon sun.
"This belonged to my grandmother," Vincent whispered, his eyes gleaming with raw vulnerability. "She gave it to my father when they had nothing but a cold room in Brooklyn. She told him that true strength isn't about how many men you command, but about who you are willing to die for."
He looked into Nora’s dark eyes, his heart on his sleeve.
"You changed my world, Nora Hayes. You gave my mother her dignity back, and you gave me a reason to be something more than a monster. I don't want you as my employee. I don't want you as my ward."
Vincent took her hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he looked into her face.
"I want you as my wife. If you’ll have me."
Nora looked at the ring, then up at the man who had torn down an empire to keep her safe. The fear she had once felt for his world had long dissolved, replaced by a profound, unbreakable love for the man standing before her.
"On one condition, Don Russo," Nora said, a playful spark entering her eyes despite the tears shining in them.
Vincent raised an eyebrow, a breathless laugh escaping his chest. "Name it."
"We move my brother into the main house. And you let me fire the head chef because his pasta sauce needs more garlic."
Vincent let out a loud, joyous laugh that echoed through the bright halls of the east wing—a sound the estate had not heard in thirty years.
He slipped the diamond ring onto her finger, fitting perfectly.
May you like
"Done," Vincent said softly.
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, sealing their promise beneath the warm afternoon light.
