The silence in Bellavita wasn't the quiet of a resting room; it was the suffocating stillness of a loaded gun.

Three months later.

The rain had stopped, leaving behind a crisp, golden autumn morning that painted the Chicago skyline in brilliant shades of amber and copper.

I stood on the stone balcony of the master suite, wearing a simple silk dress, watching the sunrise over Lake Michigan. The coffee mug in my hand was warm against my palms.

Behind me, the door opened softly.

Footsteps approached, followed by two tiny, warm arms wrapping around my waist. I looked down. Lorenzo was walking now, wobbling on unsteady toddler legs, babbling happily as he clutched the hem of my dress.

I knelt down, scooping him up into my arms and pressing a kiss to his soft curls.

“Morning, little man,” I smiled.

Dominic stepped out onto the balcony, holding two cups of steaming coffee. He looked relaxed, the harsh lines around his eyes softened, wearing a simple dark sweater instead of his usual charcoal business suit.

He handed me a cup, then reached out to tickle Lorenzo’s chin, earning a bright, toothy giggle from the baby.

“Your mother is already down in the garden,” Dominic said, his voice warm and steady. “She’s beating Viktor at chess for the third morning in a row.”

“Viktor is letting her win,” I laughed, taking a sip of the coffee. “He’s terrified of her.”

“Everyone is terrified of her,” Dominic smiled, leaning against the railing beside me and looking out over the sprawling estate grounds. “Just like everyone in this city is terrified of the woman who stands beside me.”

I looked up at him, the weight of the past four months settling peacefully into my bones. The fear, the trauma, the hospital ghosts—they hadn't vanished entirely, but they no longer controlled me. I had survived Bellavita. I had survived Marcone, Marcus, and the shadows of the Moretti syndicate.

I wasn't just a waitress anymore. And Dominic wasn't just a monster.

We were something else entirely.

“Are you ever going to let me go back to nursing?” I teased gently, leaning my shoulder against his.

Dominic wrapped his free arm around my waist, pulling both Lorenzo and me close against his chest.

“Never,” Dominic murmured, pressing his lips softly to my temple. “You’re the only one in Chicago who knows how to keep my heart beating.”