THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE TOLD ME TO SEAT HIS SEVENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD FORMER HOUSEKEEPER IN THE KITCHEN—BUT WHEN I BROUGHT HER TO THE ENGAGEMENT TABLE, LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP AND CALLED HER “MAMA ROSA.”

Three months later.

The summer sun shone brightly over the lush gardens of the Gold Coast estate. The entire mansion was decorated with white roses, warm golden ribbons, and delicate crystal lamps.

There were no reporters. No mafia bosses. No political mergers or high-society fake smiles.

Just a small gathering of genuine friends, the household staff, my father looking healthy and proud in his new navy suit, and Rosa sitting happily in the front row holding a fresh slice of apple pie.

I stood near the marble gazebo wearing a simple, breathtaking white lace dress, holding a bouquet of wild lilies.

Luca stood before me in a dark, tailored tuxedo. The ruthless mob boss who once inspired fear across the entire Midwest looked at me with eyes full of absolute warmth, love, and quiet peace.

"I spent my whole life believing power was built with fear," Luca whispered, taking both my hands in his. "You showed me that real power is having something worth protecting."

I smiled, my heart overflowing with happiness. "And you showed me that home isn't a place. It's the people who stand by you when everyone else walks away."

The minister smiled warmly at us both. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Luca pulled me close, dipping me slightly as he kissed me deeply, surrounded by the cheerful applause of the people who truly mattered.

Later that evening, as the sun set over Lake Michigan, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and gold, Luca and I stood together on the back terrace, watching Rosa teach one of the young housekeepers her secret pie crust recipe in the distance.

Luca slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.

"What are you thinking about, Mrs. Moretti?" he murmured softly into my hair.

"I was thinking about how a single piece of apple pie changed everything," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder.

Before Luca could answer, Marco walked out onto the terrace, holding an encrypted dark red envelope sealed with a strange, blood-red wax crest—one that neither Luca nor I had ever seen before.

Marco’s face was dead serious.

"Mr. Moretti," Marco said quietly, handing the envelope to Luca. "This was just delivered to the front gate by an unmarked courier from Europe. It's addressed to your mother... and signed by someone claiming to be her living sister."

Luca froze, staring down at the blood-red seal.