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Alessio cups my face and my chest contracts, because holy shit, is this happening?

Is Alessio actually about to—

“I love you, Olivia.”

I stop breathing. No, really. My lungs just straight-up boycottoxygen.

Because what the fuck?

He says it like it’s final. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s been sitting on his tongue for weeks, and now that he’s said it, he’s daring me to argue with him.

But my brain scrambles for something to say, but all I manage is a breathless, “Oh.”

Oh? OH?! Alessio loves me, and my dumbass response is oh?

His grip tightens like he’s expecting me to fight him on this.

But I don’t because I can’t.

I’ve already said it twice. Once half-asleep, and once on the verge of death. But I meant it both times. Even if he didn’t say it back. Even if I swore I wasn’t waiting for him to.

But now he has. And suddenly, the bed feels a little warmer. And Alessio’s weight pressing into me feels less like a cage and more like home.

So, I do the only thing I can do. I smile up at him, all teeth. “Took you long enough, husband.” Well, soon-to-be husband.

A wicked grin spreads across his face right before he yanks me into him, and for a second, nothing else exists. No smoke, no fire, no past bullshit.

Just him.

Justme.

And the mark he burned into his skin to prove he’s mine.

“I love you, too,” I say, because how the hell could I not?

56

Alessio

This isn’t just any day. This is the day Liv and I make it official.

In true Italian tradition, a wedding is a huge ass celebration, a way for bothfamiglia’sto come together. But since Liv has no family left, and my father claimed her as part ofLa Famigliaa while ago, we’re keeping it simple, no extravagant wedding bullshit. Just signing the marriage certificate in front of our witnesses.

Of course, because I’m the Don over Philly, my witnesses aren’t exactly a couple of nobodies. The other six Dons of theLa Cosa NostraCommission will be present because this isn’t just some legal formality—it’s a statement to them. They want to see for themselves who will be the Don’s wife.

Antonio is coming, too. Not because he wants to, but because he needs to. He threatened Liv, and he needs to witness with his own eyes that this marriage ishappening. Not that he’s as pissed as before, probably because his first grandkid is on the way, and he’s redirected all that fucking energy elsewhere.

Liv asked me if she needed to wear white, and I told her she could wear a fucking paper bag for all I care. It’s her choice. And I mean it. Who needs a big production when the real deal is what we have and the bond we share?

Yeah, I’m getting fucking sappy.

My mother, on the other hand, has been hounding me for a proper wedding, but I told her she could plan afamigliadinnerinstead. Somehow, though, that one dinner turned into Sunday dinners at my parents’ house every damn week, starting next Sunday.

She said she’d be ‘gracious’ and let us have this week to ourselves since we’re officially tying the knot, but she wasn’t exactly subtle when she started hinting at grandkids.

I love my mom, but I had to tell her to pump the brakes on that shit.

Liv and I have touched on the subject briefly. It came up once, in passing, and we both agreed we’re not rushing into anything. An heir is expected when you’re a Don, but there’s no pressure. If mySirenanever wants kids, I’m good with that, too. I’m sure one of my sisterswill pop one out eventually. And if not, Kota’s bound to have a whole damn squad.