Page 221 of The Mob Boss and the Assassin
"Welcome to married life. Where your problems become my problems become your sister's problems become everyone's problems."
"That's not how the vows went."
"It's how the reality goes."
He started dialing, then paused. "You know what?"
"What?"
"I'm actually looking forward to this."
"To your sister being in danger?"
"No. To—to having family again. Real family. People who need each other and help each other and don't exile each other to foreign countries."
I understood. After everything with Filomena and Silvio, after the betrayal and the grief and the loss—this felt different.
This felt like building something instead of tearing it down.
"Me too," I said. "Even if it means our quiet married life just ended."
"It was nice while it lasted."
"Three whole months."
"A record in our world."
"We'll get back to quiet eventually."
"You think?"
"No. But it's a nice thought."
He laughed, kissed me once more, then hit dial.
As Carlo answered and Quentin launched into explaining the situation, I looked around our house. At the twelve coffee mugs I'd won the fight to keep. At the combined bookshelves where my thrillers mixed with his business books. At the wedding photos on the wall—both of us laughing, covered in cake, surrounded by family.
This was our life now.
Messy. Complicated. Full of crisis and drama and families with more problems than solutions.
But it was ours.
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Even if it meant flying to LA to save a sister-in-law from a boyfriend with mob connections.
Even if it meant our peaceful honeymoon phase was officially over.
Even if it meant we'd probably never get those six months of boring.
Because boring was overrated.
And this—this beautiful, chaotic, slightly dangerous life we were building together—was exactly where I wanted to be.
Problems, coffee mugs, and all.
