Epilogue
SIENNA
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Can I get another cup of coffee, please? And make it a vanilla latte this time, extra espresso,” Daniela calls out to the waiter with a bright smile, leaning back into the plush leather booth.
I giggle, swirling the straw in my own iced tea. “Dani, if you have any more caffeine, you’re going to start vibrating right out of your seat.”
“Let her live, Si,” Camilla laughs, taking a delicate bite of her almond croissant. “She’s running on four hours of sleep because she insisted on finishing her thriller novel last night.”
The sun streams beautifully through the large glass windows of our favorite corner café, casting a warm, golden glow over our table.
Outside, the streets are bustling, but inside, the atmosphere is filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, light jazz playing softly in the background, and the comforting sound of our shared laughter.
The mood is light, happy, and absolutely wonderful—a stark contrast to where we were just months ago.
Sitting here with my sisters, completely free of the shadows that used to haunt us, feels like a beautiful dream I never want to wake up from.
“Guilty as charged,” Daniela admits, shaking her head as the waiter drops off her fresh mug.
She wraps her hands around the warm ceramic, looking across the table at me with a soft, content expression. “But honestly, Sienna, you look radiant.”
“You really do,” Camilla chimes in eagerly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Marriage looks incredibly good on you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that your husband treats you like a literal queen.”
A deep blush creeps up my neck, warming my cheeks instantly, which only makes my sisters burst into a chorus of delighted laughter.
From the corner of the booth, Eleonora smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling with genuine affection. “I’m just so incredibly happy you found a wonderful man, Sienna. You deserve every bit of this joy.”
“Speaking of your wonderful man,” Daniela says, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, her tone turning entirely amused.
“For some reason, Dad has been absolutely pissed off. He loses his mind and hates the mention of your names. Seriously, the mere whisper of it ruins his entire day.”
I let out a sharp scoff, a smug smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Good. Two months ago, right after everything went down, Dad came over to my house. He actually had the nerve to request more weapons from Alessandro, using the excuse that he’s my father and we’re allies.”
Camilla gasps, her jaw dropping. “No way.”
“Yes way,” I say, taking a slow sip of my drink to build the suspense. “And Alessandro completely shut him down. He told him he would never benefit from me ever again, and then he literally told him to see himself out.”
My sisters instantly burst out laughing, the sheer satisfaction of the mental image rippling through the entire table. Even the rigid authority our father used to hold over us feels completely powerless now.
Rosalia shakes her head, a wistful, proud smile on her face. “That is absolutely amazing. Honestly, I wish my husband would take a page out of Alessandro’s book and learn a thing or two about family.”
The laughter softens, a collective, sympathetic smile passing between all of us as we look at her. We all know how awful her husband is, and the subtle reminder of her situation leaves a brief, tender quiet over the table.
Sensing the shift, Rosalia gives a playful roll of her eyes, determined to keep the atmosphere bright and beautiful. She claps her hands together and points a fork at my plate. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s lighten the mood and eat our food before it gets cold.”
We all resume eating, the comfortable clinking of silverware and light small talk filling the gap as we ease back into the wonderful morning.
Then, Camilla clears her throat, the sudden shift in her posture drawing our attention. She looks down at her plate, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her napkin. "Guys... I’m actually really worried about something."
We all still instantly, setting our forks down. The lighthearted air in the booth completely evaporates.
"What is it, Cami?" I ask, leaning forward. "What's wrong?"
Camilla swallows hard, looking up at us with anxious eyes. "Dad told me last night that we’re traveling to Sicily together next month."
Our brows furrow in perfect unison. A heavy, collective frown settles over the table.
"What?" Daniela says, her voice sharpening with instant suspicion. "I didn’t know anything about that. He hasn't mentioned a word about a trip."
Camilla looks around at the rest of us, her voice trembling slightly. "Did he tell any of you about this? Are we all going?"
We all exchange long, grim looks across the table, silently communicating the exact same dread, before turning back to her and shaking our heads.
Camilla lets out a heavy, stressed sigh, slumping back against the leather booth. "I’ve been completely sick to my stomach since yesterday. I just keep wondering why on earth he suddenly wants to go to Sicily, and why he’s taking just me. It doesn't make any sense."
Rosalia’s expression hardens, her protective older-sister instincts kicking in full force. She sets her hands flat on the table. "Don't panic, Cami. I’ll talk to him about it tonight and find out what he thinks he's doing."
"No, please don’t," Camilla pleads quickly, reaching out to stop her, fear flashing in her eyes. "He’s been extra volatile these days and I really don’t want to cause any trouble. If he thinks I'm gossiping or trying to question him, it will only make things worse."
Camilla shakes her head. "I think... I think he wants to marry me off. A completely arranged marriage to some stranger in Sicily."
Rosalia lets out a sharp, dismissive scoff.
"Marrying you to someone all the way in Sicily won’t favor him right now, Cami.
Father does absolutely everything for money and leverage.
Right now, all his primary business assets and problems are right here.
I highly doubt that’s what this trip is about. "
Camilla blinks, letting out a breath she seemed to be holding, and a small, relieved smile touches her lips. "Yes... you’re right. I’m completely overthinking it, aren't I?"
Eleonora reaches across the table, her voice soothing and steady. "Just stay calm, sweetie. Whatever it is, we will figure it out together. You aren't alone."
"I feel better now," Camilla says, the heavy tension leaving her shoulders. She looks around the table at each of us, her eyes shining. "I love you all so much. Thank you for always being there for me."
"Always," I tell her, squeezing her hand.
We finally resume eating, and the easy conversation slowly flows back into the booth.
But even as I smile and talk, a small seed of worry lingers in the back of my mind.
Still, I hang onto Rosalia’s words. She’s right.
Dad is a ruthless businessman down to his very core; he wouldn’t jeopardize his current domestic alliances by secretly marrying Camilla off to some distant Sicilian family without a massive financial payoff.
Suddenly, a familiar chime cuts through our chatter. I pull my phone out of my purse and slide it open. A message from Alessandro flashes on the screen:
“When are you returning? I miss you. If you’re not here in ten minutes, I’m coming to get you myself.”
A bright, helpless giggle escapes my lips, and I shake my head. If anyone had told me a few months ago that the fearsome, lethal Don of the Gallo empire would turn out to be the most clingy, softest man behind closed doors, I would have laughed in their face.
But he is. And I have never been happier, or more profoundly in love, in my entire life.
My fingers fly across the keyboard as I text him back: I’ll be home soon, wild man. I love you.
But there’s more…