Epilogue
The sound of laughter and tiny feet pattering on the hardwood floors echoed through the house. Lexie stood in the middle of the chaos, holding a stack of plates, her voice raised to be heard over the commotion. “Boys! The table won’t set itself! Let’s go!”
The four little tornadoes that were her sons didn’t even glance her way. Eight-year-old Matteo was chasing his six-year-old twin brothers, Nico and Luca, around the kitchen island, while four-year-old Giovanni, clutching a wooden spoon, banged it against the counter as if it were a drum.
“Matteo! Stop chasing your brothers!” Lexie called, trying to sound stern while stifling a laugh. “Nico, Luca—put those breadsticks down! Giovanni, no drumming on the furniture!”
None of them listened. It was utter mayhem, and the stack of plates in her hands wobbled dangerously as she tried to dodge the twins, who zoomed past her, giggling uncontrollably.
At the stove, Max stood with his back to the chaos, his sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly mussed.
He was stirring a massive pot of sauce with one hand while expertly tossing fresh spaghetti in a pan with the other.
Flour dusted his dark shirt and the counter around him showed remnants of the dough he’d rolled out earlier.
“You okay over there, Lex?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. His grin was pure amusement, but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t dimmed even slightly over the years.
She set the plates down, then planted a hand on her hip, glaring at him playfully. “You could help me corral your sons, you know.”
Max chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove. “Control them? No chance, mia cara. They’re all yours when it comes to that.” He scooped a spoonful of sauce and tasted it, nodding in satisfaction. “Besides, they’re having fun.”
“They’re utterly feral,” she muttered, trying to grab Giovanni before he resumed banging the spoon on the cabinet. She missed, and the little boy scampered away, giggling mischievously.
Max turned off the stove and carried the pot of sauce to the counter, his movements unhurried despite the pandemonium around him. “Dinner’s ready!” he announced.
That got the boys’ attention. Matteo skidded to a halt, his eyes lighting up. “Pasta night!”
“Pasta night!” the twins echoed, racing to the table.
Giovanni toddled over, clutching his wooden spoon like a prize. “Pasta!” he cheered, climbing onto a chair.
Lexie finally managed to catch a moment of calm, watching as the boys jostled and shouted over who got to sit where. She glanced at Max, who was now ladling sauce over the freshly cooked pasta, utterly unfazed by the chaos around him.
Her heart swelled as she took in the sight of him. For a man who had once prided himself on control, Max had none of it in his personal life. And yet, he looked completely at peace. More than that—he looked happy.
“Max,” she said softly, coming up beside him.
He paused, turning to look at her, his eyes full of love. “Yes?”
She smiled, her gaze darting between him and the boys, who were still arguing about forks. “How do you do it? You run an empire with precision, but here…” She gestured to the chaos. “You have zero control.”
Max smirked, setting down the ladle. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close despite the dusting of flour. “That’s because here, I have everything I need,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “This chaos is mine, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
She leaned into him, laughing softly. “You’re crazy.”
“You have no idea,” he teased, his voice low.
“Ew! Kissing!” Matteo groaned from the table, making gagging noises. The twins followed suit, and even little Giovanni wrinkled his nose.
Max threw back his head and laughed, a sound so full of joy that it made Lexie’s chest ache with happiness. “Alright, enough stalling. Let’s eat!” he declared, ushering everyone to the table.
As the boys dug into their pasta with gusto, Lexie looked around the table at her family, her heart full. Chaos reigned in their home, and so did love. That was all that mattered.
A note from Elizabeth;
Lexie thought she had finally broken free—free from her past, from the shadows of her father’s world, from anything even resembling the mafia.
And then Max walked into her life… or rather, back into it.