Page 91 of Wicked Mafia Boss
And someday soon, a child who will carry both our names and grow up knowing nothing but love.
I am Katriana Bellrose, soon to be Katriana Moses.
I am the woman who made a wish and had it granted by a man who was waiting for me before I even knew to hope.
I am happy.
And I am finally, blessedly, impossibly home.
Later that evening Rafael and Persia throw us a surprise party.
The celebration spills through the halls of Ember House, champagne flowing freely as the inner circle of the Red Letter Syndicate toasts to dreams made real. Persia holds Sofia on her hip while Rafael stands at her side, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. Kon leans against a bookshelf with his usual stoic grace, a rare smile softening the hard lines of his face. Massimo and Rowan argue good-naturedly about something I cannot quite hear, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings.
But it is Luca who draws my attention as the evening wears on.
He stands near the floor-to-ceiling windows with his phone in his hand, and the expression on his face stops me mid-sentence in my conversation with Damaris. I have never seen Luca anything but composed. The man who handles the Syndicate's finances with ruthless precision, who can erase enemies and make fortunes appear with equal ease, who moves through the world with an easygoing charm that masks the predator beneath.
Tonight, something has cracked that careful facade.
His jaw is tight. His dark eyes burn with an intensity I do not recognize as he stares at the screen, his thumb hovering over something he seems unable to delete. The glow from his phone casts shadows across his features that make him look almost dangerous and desperate in equal parts.
I drift toward Drake and slip my hand into his, nodding subtly toward Luca. "What's going on with him?"
Drake follows my gaze, and something knowing flickers across his expression. The corner of his mouth twitches with what might be amusement or might be concern.
"Someone sent him something interesting about fifteen minutes ago." Drake's voice is low, meant only for me. "A mistake, apparently. Wrong number."
My brows rise in curiosity. "What kind of something?"
Drake just shakes his head, pulling me closer against his side. "That is his story to tell, little rose. When he is ready."
I watch Luca pocket his phone with a deliberate slowness that speaks of reluctance. His expression smooths back into the easy smile I recognize, but his eyes remain dark with secrets as he rejoins the celebration.
Whatever landed in Luca Valentina's inbox has shaken the unshakeable.
And knowing the men gathered in this room, I suspect Chicago is about to witness another collision between a Red Letter wish and the ruthless men who grant them.
I make a mental note to ask Persia about it later. Between the two of us, we have become quite adept at reading the storms brewing behind Syndicate composure.
But for now, Drake's arms wrap around me from behind, his lips brushing against my ear with a whispered promise that chases all other thoughts from my mind.
Tonight is about us. About Ember House. About the future we are building together.
Luca's story will unfold in its own time.
