Chapter 9 - THE EVENING PEACEAs dusk fell over the Chicago skyline, painting Lake Michigan in brilliant hues of amber and gold, Alessandro sat down beside me on the sofa.
He wrapped one arm around my shoulders, pulling me close while his other hand gently brushed a curl away from our sleeping daughter's forehead.
The shadows of the past—the diner uniform, the ketchup on the sleeve, the night my parents were taken, and the fear that nearly destroyed us—were gone, washed away by truth and survival.
"You know," Alessandro murmured, kissing the top of my head, "when you tripped in that ballroom six months ago, I thought you were just another civilian lost in the noise of the city."
May you like
"And instead?" I smiled, looking up at him.
"Instead," Alessandro whispered, pressing his lips to mine, "you were the best thing that ever happened to my empire."
