Epilogue
EPILOGUE
SOFIA
A s we stroll hand in hand through the picturesque streets of Paris, I can’t help but feel a giddy sense of excitement and adventure. Dom and I have been looking forward to this romantic weekend getaway ever since I bought those open end tickets, and now that we’re finally here, exploring the city on foot, it feels like a dream come true.
I glance over at Dom, my heart swelling with love as I watch him take in the sights and sounds of Paris with the wide-eyed wonder of an excited tourist. It’s a side of him I rarely get to see, and it’s absolutely adorable. He’s even wearing white athletic socks with his tennis shoes, something he’d never do back home.
“We get to look like normal people, Sof!” he exclaimed as we packed our backpacks, grinning from ear to ear.
He’s so lucky I love him. As is, I’ve already snapped a picture of him and sent it to Valentina so she can have a good laugh.
I, on the other hand, refuse to wear tennis shoes, opting instead for a pair of cute and comfortable flats that I hope will make me look chic and stylish. I may be on vacation, but I still want to blend in with the fashionable Parisian crowd.
As we wander through charming cobblestone alleys and grand boulevards, I can’t help but feel a sense of freedom and joy. Here, in this beautiful city, we’re just Dom and Sofia, two people in love, exploring the world. No responsibilities, no worries, just the two of us and the endless possibilities that lie ahead.
“This is perfect,” I sigh, leaning my head on Dom’s shoulder as we pause to admire the view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Dom can’t help but take out his phone and snap several pictures of it. “I can’t believe we’re really here, together.”
Dom wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer and pressing a tender kiss to my temple. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be, or anyone else I’d rather be with,” he murmurs. “Traveling with you is everything I ever dreamed of.”
We soon find ourselves wandering through the winding streets of Montmartre, the charming artists’ district in Paris, and I marvel at the unbridled excitement radiating from Dom. His eyes are wide with wonder as he takes in the colorful street art, the quaint cafés, and the bustling crowds of tourists and locals alike.
“Sof, look at that!” he exclaims, pointing to a street performer juggling flaming batons, “And over there, the Sacré-Coeur Basilica! It’s even more beautiful than in the pictures!”
The grin that spreads across my face can’t be suppressed. Dom is like a kid in a candy store, eagerly soaking up every sight, sound, and experience that Paris has to offer. You would never know he’s the heir to the Sicura Crime Family, a Family that has more money than God himself.
The heavenly scents of freshly baked baguettes and croissants waft through the air as we approach a local bakery. Dom’s eyes light up. “We have to try some, Sofia!” he insists, practically dragging me inside.
Once we’re at the counter, Dom puts on his best attempt at a French accent and says, “ Bonjour! Je voudrais deux croissants, s’il vous pla?t! ”
The baker, a middle-aged Parisian woman, raises an eyebrow at Dom’s butchered French, clearly unimpressed. I can’t help but burst out laughing at the exchange, earning a playful glare from Dom.
“ Pardonnez-moi ,” I say to the baker, my French flowing smoothly. “ Nous prendrons deux croissants et deux cafés, s’il vous pla?t. ”
The baker smiles at me, nodding in approval as she prepares our order of two croissants and two coffees. Dom looks at me, a mix of awe and amusement on his face. “Show-off,” he teases, nudging me with his elbow. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”
I shrug, looking smug. “Papa always wanted us to learn French, and I’m the only one who really showed an aptitude for it. Bianca’s French is even worse than yours.”
As we sit at a nearby table, savoring our flaky croissants and rich coffee, I can’t help but feel a surge of love and affection for this man, my husband, who is so determined to embrace the “normal” tourist experience.
“You know,” I say, reaching across the table to take his hand, “I love seeing you like this, so carefree and excited about discovering the world.”
Dom’s eyes soften, and he brings my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “You make everything better, brighter, and more beautiful. I can’t wait to plan our next trip together. Where should we go?”
I take a bite of the delicate pastry, wanting to moan at how delicious it is. “Somewhere where you won’t butcher the language,” I tease.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Dom insists, sipping his coffee as his eyes glint with amusement.
“The waiter at dinner last night looked like he wanted to cry when he heard you ask where the bathrooms are.”
Dom shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. “Let’s go to Spain next,” he says. “It’s close enough to Italian that I should be able to get by.” He finishes his coffee and stands up, holding out his hand. “Let’s go, Sofia. We have so much more to explore.”
As the sun begins to set over the Parisian skyline, Dom and I make our way back to our cozy Airbnb, tired but blissfully happy after a day spent exploring the city’s wonders. We climb the narrow stairs to our charming little apartment, the anticipation building with each step. Dom carries multiple shopping bags from several well-known French designers.
Dom may want to play the part of a normal tourist, but I’m still a Marino, and Marino girls love the Big Three—Balmain, Dior, and Chanel. My mother and sisters would kill me if I didn’t buy them something while I was in Paris.
Once inside, Dom pulls me into his arms, his lips finding mine in a kiss that starts off tender but quickly deepens, igniting the ever-present spark between us. We stumble toward the bedroom, shedding layers of clothing along the way, our hands eagerly rediscovering each other’s bodies.
As we fall onto the soft, inviting bed, I can’t help but marvel at the love and desire that course through my veins. Dom’s touch, his kiss, his very presence consumes me, filling me with a sense of completeness and utter contentment.
Not too long ago, the thought of marrying Dominico Sicura, the man who had once shattered my heart into a million pieces, filled me with dread and despair. I had believed that my life would be over, that I would be trapped in a loveless marriage, forever miserable and alone.
But now, as I gaze into Dom’s eyes, those beautiful eyes that reflect the depth of his love and devotion, I realize how wrong I was. This man, my husband, has shown me the true meaning of love, of forgiveness, and of second chances.
He has healed my broken heart and filled it with a joy I never thought possible.
As we lay tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking, I rest my head on Dom’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. In this moment, I am certain that this is my happily ever after, the fairytale ending I’ve always dreamed of.
“I love you, Dom,” I murmur, my voice soft and filled with emotion. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
Dom tightens his embrace, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head. “I love you too, Sofia,” he whispers. “You’re my everything, my forever. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Drifting off to sleep, I know that no matter what the future holds, we’ll face it together. Our love story, with all its ups and downs, has led us to this perfect moment, and I am grateful for every step of the journey.
In the city of love, in the arms of the man who holds my heart, I have found my true home, my eternal happiness. As I surrender to the blissful pull of sleep, I am confident that this is just the beginning of our forever, a love story that will continue to unfold, day by day, for the rest of our lives.