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The ring features a stunning 5-carat, D-color, internally flawless oval diamond set in a custom platinum band, flanked by two perfectly matched half-moon diamonds. Delicate micro-pave accents line the band, adding a subtle sparkle without overpowering the center stone. The setting is sleek and minimal, with a hidden halo beneath the main diamond for a touch I’m proud of.

I blink as tears make the diamonds glisten even more.

“Evie–Davis,” he says again, getting choked up.

“Oh, Dom.”

He knows how much I love this ring; I’ve been gushing about it all week.

“Will you marry me?” he asks huskily.

I think about where we started, where we’re going, the confusion leading to lust, then love. Even now, there’s that voice in me, the scared little kid screaming to find a way out. But it’s so quiet, I can barely hear it. And now, in this beautiful moment, I realize she needs me to lead the way, to make the choices she’s too afraid to make.

“Yes!” I cry, offering him my hand.

He slides the ring onto my finger, leaps up, and pulls me into his arms.

EPILOGUE

EVIE

Six Years Later

Sunlight slants through the dusty windows of the garage, glinting off the scattered pieces of chrome and copper like treasure waiting to be found. I crouch beside the workbench, while our daughter – yes, our daughter, still a miracle to me every single day – digs with focused intensity through a crate of vintage scrap Dom picked out just for us.

Sowe always accompany him to the garage. Once, the idea of looking through scrap metal was scary to me, memories dragging me to dark places. But through our little angel, we’re able to turn dark to light.

“Mommy, look at this one!” Angelica squeals, holding up a chunky gear like it’s a diamond from a princess’s tiara.

“It’s perfect,” I say, kissing her on the forehead, unable to stop myself. “That’ll make the most stunning necklace. What do you think? Hung on a leather cord with a couple of those turquoise beads we found last weekend?”

Angelica nods, then grins wide enough to light up the whole garage… and my soul along with it. “We’ll call it The Turbo Talisman.”

I laugh, my heart bursting at the seams. “I love it. You’re a genius.”

Dom’s laugh echoes from across the garage, where he’s deep in conversation with a mechanic about one of his sports cars.

When his eyes meet mine, I still feel that tingle down my spine. All these years later, I’m still dizzy for him. Love is too small a word. Obsession isn’t quite right either. Perhaps it’s destiny. Or maybe it’s just… Dom.

We’ve built a life for ourselves we can be proud of. My store has become a success, and Dom has focused on being the most kick ass CEO imaginable. No mafia. No biker gangs. No violence. Just love and the warm glow of family.

Angelica skips and shows him the gear. “Daddy, it’s going to be the Turbo Talisman!”

He lifts her into his arms, kissing her cheek. “With a name like that, you might have to make one for me, too.”

“You’d wear jewelry?” she asks, scandalized in that sassy way Dom always says reminds him of me.

“If you made it,” he replies, nuzzling her nose. “I’d wear it every single day.”

I snap a photo of them, of course. It’s become a thing. I have galleries on my phone of Daddy-and-daughter cuteness. One day, when she’s older and rolling her eyes at him, I’ll show her how fiercely she was adored. How adored she is.

Rafe and Tash arrive hand-in-hand. Tash is glowing with happiness. Rafe looks at her like she’s the answer to all life’s questions.

“Evie!” Tash calls, waving a bag of donuts. “I brought the goods!”

“You angel woman,” I beam, wrapping her in a hug, careful not to disturb her baby bump. She’s almost ready to pop.

As we sit together in the sun-drenched garage, our daughter making up names for each new piece of scrap we find–The Rocket Ring, The Sparkle Screw, The Piston of Power–Dom wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. His lips find the top of my head and linger there, and I swear time stops.