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The ballroom of The Grand Sterling glistened like an ice palace drowned in amber light, smelling faintly of expensive champagne, high-stakes panic, and illicit money. Anna stood near a towering arrangement of white orchids / Chapter 18 / 20

Chapter 18 - Unfinished Business

Two weeks later, the transition to absolute legitimacy was complete. The Castiano Group was officially traded on the NASDAQ, hailed in financial journals as a miraculous corporate turnaround story helmed by a brilliant young COO and her enigmatic CEO.

In the private office, Anna sat at her desk reviewing the morning schedule. As usual, she reached for a stack of physical trade folders, and as usual, her clumsy fingers betrayed her. Three folders slid off the edge, scattering across the marble floor with a sharp clatter.

Berto looked up from his computer, raising an eyebrow. "Are you doing that on purpose to test my patience?"

"It's my signature aesthetic," Anna retorted, dropping to her knees to gather the papers. "A reminder that despite saving Manhattan from a tactical explosive, I still cannot operate basic office stationery."

Berto stood up, walked over, and knelt beside her on the marble floor. Instead of letting her pick them up, he placed his large hand gently over hers, stopping her movement.

Anna looked up, her breath catching as she met his intense, dark gaze.

"Anna," he said, his voice unusually soft, carrying a vulnerability that belonged to no mafia boss and no corporate executive.

"Yes?" she asked, her heart doing that familiar, unauthorized flip.

Berto reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, unassuming velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring set with a single, brilliant emerald surrounded by delicate diamonds.

"I've spent four years letting you fix my life, organize my chaos, and talk back to my worst impulses," Berto said quietly. "I don't intend to stop. Will you marry me, Anna? And officially become my partner in every crime we never commit again?"

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Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering wheel of his matte-black Bentley, staring at the imposing wrought-iron gates of his own estate. To the world, the Sterling name was synonymous with untouchable wealth, bleeding-edge tech investments, and a picture-perfect modern family. But as the automated gates slid open with a soft, expensive hum, Arthur didn't feel like a master of a universe; he felt like a stranger walking into a trap he had built with his own hands.

Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering...

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverberating directly through the plaster of the master bedroom's walk-in closet wall.

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverbe...

The wind on the balcony was sharp, carrying the bitter, fish-heavy tang of the Boston Harbor. It hit Dileia like a physical blow, cutting right through the thin polyester of her service uniform. She shivered, though she refused to wrap her arms around herself. Doing so would look like weakness, and tonight, weakness was a currency she couldn't afford to spend.

The wind on the balcony was sharp, carrying the bitter, fish-heavy tang...

Anna stared at the ring, a bright, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips as tears welled in her eyes. "You realize my filing skills aren't going to improve, right? I'm going to keep dropping paperwork for the rest of our lives."

"I'm counting on it," Berto smiled, slipping the ring onto her finger.

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