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“While at ‘the pharmacy,’ I discovered something very interesting. Apparently, one of the most painful places to be stabbed is the kidney. Let me know if it's true.”

With that, I close the distance, almost hugging him as I angle the knife just where Matteo showed me and shove it into his flesh.

The scream that escapes Massimo as I twist the knife for added effect echoes through the mansion, along with Elena's.

“Fuck, if that isn’t a sight for sore eyes,il mio fiorellino.”

Even the screaming Bianchi siblings cannot drown out the voice I thought I might never hear again. I spin around, the bloody knife still in my hand. There, standing in the doorframe from which we came, with a look of absolute pride and adoration on his face, stands my husband.

“Dominico."

Epilogue

Dominico

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” Dante’s question is met with a chuckle from Nero, who is sitting to my right.

“Everything is going well, and I am very rich. That is a recap, is it not?” I ask, without looking away from the woman who resembles the one I met at the North Side Gentlemen’s Club, what feels like a lifetime ago. Except this one is smiling, confident, and sporting a massive baby bump that makes my cock hard, just thinking how my seed is growing in her.

I watch as she laughs at something Holly says, her whole face lighting up without a care in the world. With all our threats eliminated, this is how it should be. She is the woman she deserves to be—happy, safe, and content. And for the first time in a long time, those feelings also sit deep within me.

"Boss, where should I put this?" one of my men asks, the stack of brand new romance books balancing precariously in his grasp.

"In this place, I am not the boss." I dip my head in Lily's directionand he nods before approaching her.

"When is opening day?" Dante asks, sipping his drink while fingering the leaf of a palm right beside him.

"Tomorrow," I say proudly, my gaze drifting across the space that just three weeks ago was a shell. Now it was my little flowers planty book shop—Lily's Coffee Nook.

"How did you swing this?" Nero asks, lifting his glass, which definitely doesn't contain coffee. My favorite whiskey in a decanter is beside us, on a bookshelf surrounded by potted plants. Even larger-than-normal armchairs have been specially procured to accommodate men of our size comfortably. Lily's way of saying we belong in her world as much as she does in ours. The perfect combination of dark meeting light. The devil and the angel finding a way to coexist together.

"I'm sleeping with the boss," I reply, earning me a snort.

“Fuck,” Nero hisses, catching my attention as I follow his gaze to the man Lily hired as a server. Lucas, a friend of Violet's and the only reason he is allowed to work here, has just approached Holly.

Holly’s gaze snaps over to us, and she smirks as she leans forward, clearly intending to provoke my underboss.

“Petit morveux,” he says under his breath, making me chuckle as he gets up and storms off. Holly laughs and then squeals as he swiftly picks her up, tossing her over his shoulder and smacking her ass hard before walking off towards the back entrance.

“Fucking lunatics,” Dante comments before rising. “I've gotta go take Violet for her appointment. I'll see you later tonight." She is seeing a psychiatrist to work through the shit she experienced during her captivity, and Dante is doing a good job of supporting her. Luckily, they make a good match, with his charm and outgoing behavior balancing out her much more introverted side.

Then I am alone, my thoughts drifting to tonight's celebration. Thanks to our union with the Mancuso brothers, who have replaced the disgraced Bianchi family as one of the Three Families, we have expanded our territory north, an area we had long fought to attain. This has made us the world's most powerful mafia, and I am now being hailed as the most influential Don seen in centuries.

Along with a new rumor—one that made me proud.

Apparently, I also had the most feared mafia Queen thefamigliahad seen since 1982, when Mother Louisa, the wife of the late Don Fabrio, was murdered by one of her lovers. She had allegedly stabbed the Don in his sleep, but no one could prove it. At least my wife’s reputation was established by protecting me. To think that a five-foot-two woman holds so much power almost makes me laugh. If anyone is strong enough to hold that space, it isil mio fiorellino, the strongest woman I know.

As Violet and Dante walk away, her gaze drifts over and meets mine. A smile lifts her beautiful pink lips, and she approaches me with a sway in her hips.

She is so graceful in her body, a body that carries our child, and the way her white cotton dress clings to every curve is so provocative, I can't help but want to take her. Right here, right now. She is a work of art. A masterpiece.Mine. The possessive thought lingers as she stops just out of reach, her eyes raking over my face before trailing down my torso as she leans forward, placing her hands on my thighs.

“Are you famous or something?” She repeats the exact words she said to me the first time we met, reminding me of how far we have come.

She runs her nails along my thighs, then steps forward between my legs, her hands sliding up my shoulders and neck to fist my hair.

“Or something. But then I hear, so are you.” She laughsand then gasps when I pull her forward, my hands sliding under her dress and up her outer thighs before cupping her ass and pulling her closer.

"Everyone out." The words are loud and clear, our gazes locked as tension builds. In a matter of minutes, the place is empty.