Chapter 9 - The Final Audit
Six months later.
The summer sun beamed down across the sprawling grounds of the Duca estate. The lawns were a vibrant, emerald green, the private lake sparkled like scattered diamonds, and the scent of blooming jasmine drifted through the open kitchen doors.
The Moretti syndicate had been completely dismantled, its leadership either behind bars or permanently retired. Enzo Vane was serving twenty-five years in a federal penitentiary after an anonymous cache of encrypted financial records had miraculously appeared on the desk of the United States Attorney.
The Duca enterprise had transformed. The dirty operations had been excised like a tumor, replaced by legitimate international logistics, defense contracting, and private maritime security.
At 11:37 a.m., Marco Duca walked into his kitchen.
He was wearing casual dark jeans and a fitted black polo shirt that hugged his muscular frame. No suits. No weapons. No armor.
He stopped in the doorway.
Sitting at the cream leather kitchen island, her curvy hips angled comfortably against the stool, one ankle crossed over the other, was Tessa Morgan.
She wore a soft yellow sundress that looked magnificent against her sun-kissed skin. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling down her back in wild, beautiful waves.
On the island sat a plate with a freshly sliced pear.
Beside the pear rested a brand-new yellow folder.
Marco leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. A slow, genuine smile spread across his handsome face—a smile that was no longer rare in this house.
"You're late," Marco said.
Tessa looked up, her amber eyes sparkling with pure mischief. She popped a slice of pear into her mouth.
*Crunch.*
"11:37," she replied smoothly. "Right on time."
Marco walked over to her, stepping between her parted knees as she sat on the stool. He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. She leaned into him naturally, resting her hands against his chest, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Did you break through the new laser grid on the terrace?" Marco asked, dipping his head to press a soft kiss against the hollow of her throat.
"Child's play," she hummed, tilting her head back to give him better access. "Your engineers forgot to account for the refraction angle of the morning sun. I bypassed it with a compact makeup mirror."
Marco chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating against her palms. "I'll fire them."
"Don't. They're good boys. They just need to think more like a woman who wants a snack."
Marco looked down at the yellow folder. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Your final residential security audit," Tessa said proudly, tapping the cover. "Six months of comprehensive testing. Perimeter, electronic, social, physical, and personal."
Marco reached out and opened the folder.
Inside was a single page.
At the top, in Tessa’s bold, elegant cursive:
*Duca Estate Security Assessment: Final Rating.*
Beneath it was a massive, glowing score:
*10/10.*
Marco raised an eyebrow, looking down into her teasing eyes. "A ten? From you? I thought you said perfection was impossible."
"It usually is," Tessa said softly, her teasing tone giving way to something breathtakingly sweet, vulnerable, and deep. "Except for the note at the bottom."
Marco looked down again.
Beneath the score, written in smaller print, were two sentences:
*Vulnerability detected in primary resident’s heart.*
*Property officially conquered. Non-negotiable life sentence required.*
Marco went very still.
He looked from the paper to Tessa’s radiant face.
For the first time since she had walked into his life, Marco Duca had no words. His throat felt tight, his chest aching with a love so massive, so fierce, it terrified him far more than any syndicate hit squad ever could.
"Tessa," he whispered.
She smiled, reaching into her yellow sundress pocket. She pulled out a small, heavy velvet box and set it on top of the report.
"You asked me to marry you in the middle of a gunfight, Marco," she murmured, her eyes shimmering with happy tears. "And I don't accept proposals when people are shooting at me. So... I'm giving you a second chance to do it right."
Marco let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-groan.
He picked up the box, opened it to reveal a magnificent, emerald-cut diamond ring that he had purchased three months ago and hidden in his safe, waiting for the right moment.
He sank slowly onto one knee before her, holding her hands in his.
"Tessa Morgan," Marco said, his voice deep, gravelly, and full of absolute devotion. "You broke into my house, you ate my fruit, you insulted my security, and you stole everything I own—starting with my heart. I don't want an estate without you in it. I don't want a life without you in it."
He looked up into her glowing face.
"Will you marry me?"
Tessa didn't hesitate. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him upward as she kissed him with all the passion, fire, and brilliance that made her who she was.
"Yes," she whispered against his lips. "Yes, Marco. A thousand times, yes."
From the doorway, the quiet sound of polite clapping broke their embrace.
Marco turned his head, still holding Tessa tightly in his arms.
Cal stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pear in the other. He took a loud, deliberate bite.
*Crunch.*
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"Congratulations, Boss," Cal said deadpan, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "The security of this house has officially been compromised forever."
Tessa laughed, burying her face in Marco’s chest, while Marco Duca looked at his future wife, threw his head back, and laughed with the pure, untamed joy of a man who had finally found home.
