EPILOGUE
CLAIRE
OUR WEDDING
I couldn’t believe the day had finally arrived. My wedding day.
My team had poured their hearts into the most breathtaking gown I’d ever seen—a Claire Ainsley original. The mermaid silhouette hugged every curve, covered in delicate white appliqué and pearls. The ruffled spaghetti straps were a charming detail, and from the knees down, layers of tiered tulle fanned into a dramatic train.
My hair was sheer elegance: a soft lift in front led into ocean-wave curls cascading in a ponytail down my back. Baby hairs swept perfectly against my forehead, giving me full mocha goddess vibes. Pearl-and-diamond earrings swayed from my ears, catching every glimmer of light.
My thoughts drifted to the first time I met Vino’s parents. His mom, Isabetta, cupped my face and cried as she studied me.
“You’re perfect for my son. I can tell you don’t take his shit,” she said with a warm laugh.
Vino chuckled, shaking his head. “Ma, don’t make it sound like I’m a bad guy.”
Isabetta gently patted his cheek. “You’re such a good boy,” she assured him. She gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat, both of you.”
With her hand on her hip and her long, jet-black hair dangling over one shoulder, she remarked, “You’d be even better if you’d told me about Margo. Maddie didn’t have to deal with her.”
“Mom, don’t act like you didn’t convince Maddie to bring you along to handle her,” Vino replied.
She shrugged; her Jersey accent thick. “It would’ve been nice if I’d heard it from you,” she said.
I laughed at their playful exchange.
Vincent Sr. chuckled. “Vino, you know how your mother is.”
It was clear Vincent Sr. adored his wife.
“Dad, I know. But she’d have wanted to meet Claire, and at the time, that wasn’t possible.”
His father affectionately kissed him on the head.
Their relationship was truly special.
His father made a fuss over me, too. He told me to put my feet up on the coffee table. He had prepared tea specifically for me, insisting that I needed plenty of rest before the baby arrived. I felt genuinely welcomed.
Isabetta handed me a blue handkerchief, bringing me back from my thoughts.
“Something borrowed, something blue. You’ll need this. You’re pregnant, and your hormones will be all over the place today.”
I kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called, as the makeup artist gently pressed foundation into my skin.
“Claire, you look beautiful,” a familiar voice said.
I blinked at the mirror. “Hope!”
She hugged me tightly. My sister visited me occasionally when work brought her to New York. We were always cautious. She never understood why I refused to leave my small apartment. I explained it was due to my hectic schedule, but she had no idea I was hiding from Ivan, fearing his men might have tracked her.
“I wish Mom was here,” I said, a tear rolling down my cheek.
“Me too,” Hope replied, sniffling.
“I can’t believe Vino managed to get you away from your sewing machine,” Hope laughed.
I chuckled. “You have no idea. We have so much to catch up on.”
“Is Noah here?” I asked.
“Yes, I’ll introduce you to him after the ceremony.” Hope beamed.
Knocking sounded at the door once more.
“Claire?”
I turned and froze. That voice—I hadn’t heard it in person in years. I stood, tears instantly falling.
“Daddy,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around him.
“I missed you, doll baby.”
“I missed you too.”
I looked to my left. “Miles!” I yelled.
He lifted me and spun me around. “I miss you, big little sis.”
After setting me down, Miles said, “I can’t believe Ivan turned out to be a bad guy.”
“How do you know about Ivan?”
“Vino. Spoke to us a couple of weeks ago. He wanted us to understand why we hadn’t seen you in person until your big day,” Miles said.
I kissed my brother’s cheek.
I couldn’t stop staring at my little family, who I hadn’t touched in years.
After our happy reunion, I introduced them to Vino’s mother. Then I sat back in the chair to finish getting glammed.
When it was time, my father walked me down the aisle. I smiled and waved at Gia, her brother, the mafia wives, and their husbands, sitting amongst each other.
Vino stepped off the stage, and Dad placed my hand in Vino’s.
“You’ve shown you’re the best man for my daughter. You’ve protected and provided for her. I give you my daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Thank you, Mr. Manning,” Vino replied.
Dad took a seat in the first row.
I looked up at Vino, eyes shimmering as I slid my hand over his injured arm. He refused to wear his sling today. “Thank you for getting my family here for our wedding day.”
“They had to be here,” he said with a smile. “My mom recorded your whole reunion.”
“Vino, you’re going to make me cry again.”
I scanned the beautiful backyard of our home, where friends and family gathered under the late afternoon sun. I was finally free—free to walk down the street without a disguise. Maybe not entirely safe in New York, but I could grab a slice of pizza without wearing sunglasses and ducking shadows.
I was free to be me.
And soon, I’d be a mother. A hands-on mom. And when work demanded more of me, I wouldn’t hesitate to lean on my husband. I loved that he wanted to be an active dad. Our child was definitely going to be spoiled.
I truly felt like the luckiest woman in the world, having found a second chance at love. My fiercely devoted man would do anything for me, even if it meant burning down the world.
I eagerly anticipated a life with my future husband, Mr. Mafia Boss, Vincenzo Angelo Romano.