Chapter 8 - The Contract
Maya looked at him, puzzled. “My job is over?”
Luca reached into his inner pocket. He didn't pull out a contract, a ledger, or a weapon.
He pulled out a small, square box wrapped in black velvet.
Maya’s breath caught in her throat. The world seemed to stop spinning.
“Luca...”
“For twenty-two months, you stood behind a desk,” Luca said, his voice steady, rich with emotion that he had locked away for a lifetime. “You protected my life while carrying the weight of a world that tried to crush you. You faced down your own family, bled for me, and stood beside me when everyone else ran.”
He opened the velvet box.
Inside rested a flawless, radiant-cut emerald ring, flanked by two trillion-cut diamonds, sparkling brilliantly beneath the crystal chandeliers.
“I don't need a secretary, Maya,” Luca said, taking the ring from the box and dropping down onto one knee before her on the polished ballroom floor.
The powerful Don who had just brought the Five Families to their knees looked up at her with complete, unreserved surrender in his eyes.
“I need a partner. I need an equal. I need the woman who owns my heart.”
Tears welled in Maya’s dark eyes, shimmering like the diamonds in his hand. For years, she had felt like an exile, an operative without a home, a daughter without a family.
Now, looking down at the man who had torn down an entire underworld to keep her safe, she knew exactly where she belonged.
“Will you marry me, Maya?” Luca asked.
Maya didn't hesitate for a single second.
“Yes,” she whispered, laughing through her tears. “Yes, Luca. A thousand times yes.”
Luca stood up, sliding the heavy emerald onto her left ring finger. It fit perfectly. He didn't wait for her to admire the stone; he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as his mouth captured hers in a kiss that echoed through the vast, gilded room.
Maya wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him with all the fierce, passionate love she had hidden for so long.
When he finally set her down, his hands remained resting on her hips, his forehead pressed against hers.
“There’s only one condition,” Maya whispered, breathless, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw.
Luca chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Name it. Anything.”
“Tomorrow morning,” she murmured, a wicked, beautiful spark dancing in her eyes, “you have to hire a new secretary.”
Luca threw his head back and laughed—a rich, booming sound of pure joy that neither Moretti Tower nor Blackwood Manor had ever heard.
May you like
“Deal,” Luca said, kissing her forehead. “Let’s go home.”
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