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EPILOGUE
SALVATORE
Six Months Later
D ante and Romeo sit in front of me. Their wives are at the bar, collecting drinks and greeting the horde of familiar faces who attended each of our weddings.
“I never thought I’d see the day where the Lion got hitched,” Romeo says, easing back in his chair. “Think it’s going to be harder keeping your boys in line when you’re the one bending at the knee for your wife?”
Dante chuckles, and so do I. I’d usually be against this sort of insubordination, but considering I’m moments away from sharing my first dance with my wife, I don’t give a shit about Romeo stepping out of line. It’s all fun and games anyway, and he’s just throwing back what I dished him when he was in the same position.
“If you knew what was under that dress, you’d know why I do my best work being bent over in front of her,” I wink and get up from my chair. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen?—”
“Boss, before you go.” Dante raises a hand to stop me from retreating too soon. “We’ve got some news about Harry.”
“He’s not dead before you get your hopes up,” Romeo cuts in. It’s like the two of them rehearsed this. “But we’ve bashed his mercenaries for six months, and it’s eaten into his wallet.”
“He won’t be bothering us anymore. This time, he really knows what will happen if he steps out of line again,” Dante concludes.
“I don’t give a fuck about Harry right now,” I scoff. “Glad you did it, but today isn’t about me or our business. It’s about her.”
I gesture toward the dance floor, where through a sea of moving bodies, Silver sways in her father’s arms. I’m glad we’ve managed to do right by the people of Delta County, and knocking Harry from his perch means that people like her dad—the good, salt-of-the-earth kind—stand a fighting chance.
But discussing it here is a disservice to Silver. Tomorrow is another day.
I cross the distance between me and Silver in an instant. Her dad catches my eye as I approach them, giving me a tender smile. I return it with a nod of my head.
“May I steal Silver for a dance?” I ask politely.
“Of course, son,” he says with fatherly pride as he steps away from his daughter. “Now, don’t get too tuckered out. It’s a long-standing tradition in our house that the boys have to have their one-on-one behind a bottle of whiskey. And I’m counting on you honoring the tradition.”
“Old Buck?” I raise a brow and scoff at the realization that his gun’s name, Bucky, must’ve come from his favorite bottle of liquor.
“There’s my boy.” He pats me on the back as he passes.
I take Silver’s hands in mine, and we dance to a song in mostly silence, apart from a giggle or two from her at my lack of coordination.
“You look beautiful today,” I say, in the pause of the DJ changing songs.
“With talk like that, I’d think you were trying to get under my dress, Mr. Lione.” Silver lifts herself onto her toes and presses a delicate kiss on the tip of my nose.
“Am I that easy to read?” I chuckle as I sway with her once more, even before the music begins to play.
“You are, and that’s what I love about you.”
“Well, I love you too. So fucking much.” It feels amazing to say those words out loud.
And I will say it over and over again until the day I die.