Page 95 of The Bonventi Rise

I do, and he leads me inside. When the door shuts, he whispers to me, "Open them."

A single spotlight illuminates the center of the room, and there, bathed in its warm glow, stands the most beautiful harp I've ever seen. My breath catches in my throat. It's massive, its golden frame shining, strings waiting to be played.

"Marco," I say, unable to take my eyes off the instrument. "It's beautiful."

I move toward it as if in a trance, my fingers brushing across the strings. The notes that emerge are pure, perfect.

I hear Marco make a painful noise behind me, and I spin around. He's struggling to lower himself to one knee, his face tight with pain from his still-healing wounds.

I freeze, watching as he kneels before me. In his hand is a small velvet box.

"Alina," he says, and my heart pounds so hard I can barely hear him over its rhythm. "I know we did this backward. I know our beginning wasn't traditional. But you've become everything to me. My partner, my conscience, the mother of my child." His voice catches. "My Firefly. I want to do this right this time. No contracts, no arrangements. Just us."

He opens the box, revealing a ring that makes me gasp at its size.

"Alina Carter, will you marry me? For real this time?"

"Yes," I breathe, without any thought. "Yes, a thousand times, Marco. Of course, I'll marry you."

His face breaks into a radiant smile, and he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was always meant to be there. Marco starts to stand, wincing slightly, and I quickly move to help him up.

As soon as he's on his feet, he pulls me into a fierce embrace. I can feel his heart racing against my chest.

His lips find mine in a kiss that's both tender and passionate. When we break apart, I look down at the ring. It's beautiful.

I'm still staring at it when Marco clears his throat. "Alina, there's one more thing."

My heart stops. "Another surprise? Marco, I don't think I can handle?—"

"Marry me next week."

I blink. "What?"

"On the Amalfi Coast." His eyes are intense, burning with that familiar determination. "I've already made arrangements. Just us, my family, and anyone you want there. Small, intimate, perfect."

The Amalfi Coast? Next week? It's crazy. What about our schedules and—you know what, who cares?

"Can we go today?" I say, smiling.

He pulls me close, his cologne wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. "I love you, Firefly."

As Marco holds me, I can't help but marvel at how far we've come. From a business arrangement to this moment of pure love—it's almost poetic. His heartbeat against my chest feels strong and steady, nothing like those terrifying moments in the hospital when I thought I'd lose him forever.

"I can't wait to spend forever with you," I say against his chest.

"Ready to go home?" Marco asks softly.

I pull back slightly, looking up at him. "Actually, can I stay here for a few minutes? I'd like to try out my new harp."

He smiles. "Of course. I'd love to hear you play."