Epilogue #2
"Every single one." Turi taps the blueprints. "Background checks on all of them. No Bellanti rats slipping into the drywall crew. The building is structurally sound and secure. You could survive a siege in this kitchen."
"Let us hope we only survive a dinner rush." I laugh, but the reality of our world lingers beneath the joke.
Turi turns his attention to Dante. The older man's gaze softens with profound pride. "You have done well, figlio. Carlo would be proud of the man standing in this room. You protect what is yours. You build a future. That is the true Costa legacy."
Dante's jaw tightens. The mention of his uncle no longer triggers a spiral of borrowed trauma. Instead, a quiet, resolute strength settles over his broad frame. "The past is buried, Turi. We focus on tomorrow."
"Exactly." Turi pats Dante's shoulder. "Now, I must return to the compound. Matteo is attempting to make a risotto and he is cursing in four different dialects because the arborio rice is not cooperating. I need to mediate before he throws a pan through the courtyard window."
"Take a cannoli for the road." Dante slides the pink box across the counter.
Turi winks at me. "A smart man bribes the negotiator." He takes the box, tucks the blueprints under his arm, and heads back toward the freight doors. "Enjoy your new empire, Gemma. Do not let this brute intimidate your waitstaff."
The doors click shut. The lock engages automatically. The immaculate kitchen falls silent once again.
Dante immediately closes the distance between us.
He grabs my waist and hoists me onto the gleaming stainless steel prep counter.
My boots dangle a foot above the floor. He steps perfectly between my thighs.
The tailored charcoal suit does nothing to hide the lethal enforcer lurking just beneath the surface.
He crowds into my space. His large hand grips the edge of the counter beside my hip, his body angled to make the kitchen feel half its size.
"You did not let me finish my tour." Dante's voice drops a full octave. The possessive gravel sends a flush of heat straight between my thighs.
"What did we miss?" I loop my arms around his neck. "The walk-in coolers? The mop closet?"
"The office." Dante leans in. His lips hover an inch from mine. "I soundproofed the manager's office. Locking door. No windows. A very large leather couch."
A wicked laugh escapes my throat. "You soundproofed my office so you can ravage me during business hours."
"I soundproofed your office so I can worship my wife without the pastry chef calling the police." Dante crushes his mouth against mine.
The kiss is consuming. The unfeeling guard dog is a ghost of the past. This man is pure, unadulterated fire.
His tongue sweeps past my lips, tasting of dark coffee and raw dominance.
I tangle my fingers in his short, dark hair.
I pull him closer. He groans, a deep, vibrating sound that rattles my ribs.
His large hands leave the counter. He grips my thighs, his fingers pressing into my skin through the fabric of my jeans.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. We both breathe heavily. The scent of sweet orange and warm cumin mixes perfectly with his gun oil and coffee.
"I love you." The words tear out of his chest. Raw. Honest. Stripped of all tactical armor. "I will burn this city to the ground before I let anyone touch you. You are my world, Gemma."
"I am yours." I stroke the neat line of his beard. "And you are mine. No more clearing empty rooms. No more fighting ghosts."
"Just the Bellantis." A dark, lethal smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"Just the Bellantis." I agree fiercely. "And we will crush them."
Dante pulls me flush against his chest. He buries his face in my neck, inhaling my scent like it is the only oxygen left in the room.
The war outside the Grand Continental will demand his violence tomorrow.
The syndicate will require his strength.
The blood feud that started twenty years ago, long before our return to Chicago, is rapidly approaching a boiling point.
But right now, in the gleaming heart of my new restaurant, surrounded by reinforced steel and bulletproof glass, Dante Costa is at peace. The protector has finally found his sanctuary. And I am exactly where I belong.
The End
Dear precious reader, thank you so much for reading Shield of the Mafia Guard!
Enzo Costa just dismantled a man’s entire life with a deck of cards and a whisper, and now he’s set his calculating sights on a lawyer who owes a debt only a wedding ring can pay. Flip to the next page for a sneak peek…