EPILOGUE - RAVEN
It's been four months since Gio came home with a damn bullet hole in his arm, telling me it was over. To his defense, so far, he's been right.
The Russians had a meeting with Enzo and fully denied they had anything to do with me or Marco's shooting, claiming Viktor acted alone. Of course, no one believes them, but it's better to play nice than fight.
During all this, I've tried to be a good little mafia fiancée—still can't believe that—and in addition to growing a strong relationship with Enzo and Marco's wives, Livia and Alina, I've been learning how things work.
I even had Gio quiz me on a map about territories. My strategy is always starting with Greektown because I know that's Kastaris’s control, obviously.
Speaking of the Greeks, I've also learned how deep of a bond Gio has with Ares. They've been causing mayhem since they were kids, so he's been over here a lot, especially after what happened to his father.
It was a whirlwind of events and tragedy, but Ares became the newly minted don of the Greek mafia, and now the Bonventi and Kastaris families control Chicago, though Gio said the Bonventis have a little more control. Either way, there seems to be peace in the city now, and everyone seems happy.
Today, however, is a very emotional day for me.
I'm taking Gio to my mom's grave. I've never taken anyone there before, so it's a big step for me, and we've got some news to share—two things, actually.
I'm a bit nervous, which is weird, even if Gio says otherwise.
I also feel a little guilty since I haven't been here since Gio rocketed into my life.
The car stops on the corner of the small street where my mom is buried, and Gio helps me out.
"Easy," he says, his hand steady under my elbow. "Don't hurt yourself."
I roll my eyes. "Oh gosh, I'm fine. Can you grab the flowers, please."
He smiles but still helps me, ignoring what I said. He does grab the flowers, though.
As we approach, I notice my mom's gravestone is pristine. The area has been trimmed, the marble looking beautiful in the sunlight. Fresh flowers are placed in all the holders—not just the one I usually fill, but all of them.
"What the—" I ask, puzzled, looking around at the immaculate condition of her resting place.
Gio smiles, that rare, gentle smile few people ever get to see. "Well, when you told me about your mom, I started having someone come and take care of her every week. She deserves it."
"Oh, Gio," I say, tears welling in my eyes. I throw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his chest. "Damn, do I love you."
His arms wrap around me, careful but firm. "I love you too, and hey," he says, pulling back to look down at me, "she gave me you, so nothing is too much."
We walk up to the grave, and I kneel down, placing my bouquet next to the others. I run my fingers over the engraving of her name—ELEANOR CARVELLO—feeling the stone beneath my fingertips.
"Hi, Mom," I say softly. "I brought someone special today." My voice catches, and I feel Gio's hand squeeze my shoulder. "This is Giovanni. Gio. He's… well, he's everything to me now."
Gio kneels beside me, silent and respectful. His presence here makes me feel whole in a way I can't explain—like two worlds colliding, past and future merging into one moment.
"You would have been hesitant at first, Mom," I say, wiping away a tear and turning to Gio, "but you would have seen how he makes me feel and loved him."
Gio smiles and squeezes my hand.
I then talk to my mother the way I always have—telling her about the gallery fire, about Gio's family accepting me.
I tell her about Livia and Alina, how they've become the sisters I never had.
About Enzo and Marco and everything in between.
Well, almost everything. I don't mention my father.
The deal he made with me or how his life ended. There's no need.
"Anyway, today is a big day for me. For us," I correct, glancing at Gio. "We've got some news. Two things, actually, to share with you, and I'm a bit nervous, which is weird." I laugh, shaking my head.
"It's not weird," Gio says softly. "She's your mother."
I nod, swallowing hard. "First thing, Mom, I'm pregnant!" My voice breaks. "With twins. Can you believe that, Mom? Twins!" I laugh through my tears. "The doctor says they're perfectly healthy, just about ten weeks along now."
I can almost feel her joy—or maybe it's just the breeze caressing my face, or the sunlight warming my skin. But it feels like she's here, listening.
"And secondly," I continue, "we're boarding a plane today and flying to Europe for our wedding!
Florence, Italy. Where I spent all those years studying.
Gio insisted." I look at him, still amazed by his consideration.
"He said it would be like having a piece of my mother there with us since I always felt close to you when I was restoring art there. "
"Well, it's not completely unselfish," Gio says with a smile. "I want to see where you became the woman who drives me crazy."
I laugh, leaning against him. "See what I have to deal with, Mom?"
We both laugh and let some silence fall over us.
"Gosh, I wish you could be there, Mom. To see me get married. To meet your grandchildren when they're born," I say, the tears coming fast now.
"Hey, now," Gio says, holding me. "She'll be there. Maybe not the way you want, but she'll be there."
I look at him, surprised by his sentiment. He shrugs, almost embarrassed.
"My mother used to say the dead never really leave us. They watch over us, protect us." His expression shifts slightly. "I like to think she's the reason that bullet didn't kill Marco or that I was able to find you when…" he trails off.
"Yeah," I say and lean my head against his shoulder, overwhelmed by everything—gratitude for this man, grief for my mother, joy for our growing family, anxiety about our future.
"Thank you," I say simply. "For understanding. For this." I gesture to the well-maintained grave.
Gio kisses the top of my head. "Anything for you, baby. You're mine to protect and cherish, remember? That includes the things and people you love."
I smile through my tears. "I thought it was 'mine to possess and control.'"
"That too," he says with a grin. "But I'm learning to be flexible."
I laugh despite myself. Giovanni Bonventi, flexible. The world truly has turned upside down.
"We should go," Gio says, checking his watch. "The plane won't wait, not even for me."
I nod, touching the gravestone one last time. "Goodbye, Mom. I'll tell you all about Italy when we get back."
Standing up, I feel Gio's arm slide around my waist, pulling me against him. For a moment, we stand together, looking down at my mother's final resting place.
"Mrs. Carvello," Gio says formally, "I swear to you I'll protect your daughter and grandchildren with my life. You have my word."
His sincerity brings fresh tears to my eyes. This is the man I'm marrying—dangerous, possessive, and capable of surprising tenderness.
As we turn to leave, I cast one final glance over my shoulder. The sunlight catches on the marble just right, making it glow.
"She approves," I say quietly. "I can feel it."
Gio's arm tightens around me. "Well then, let's go get married, Raven."