Epilogue
Tasha, a few weeks later
Today marks the start of my best friend’s happily ever after, and she deserves every moment.
I’m her maid of honor, and nothing is going to ruin today.
Not on my watch. I even convinced her Aunt Cathy to attend.
She’s part of a surprise Cyan and I have planned for Aria.
Aunt Cathy was stiff at first, but now she sees what we all see.
Aria is happy, and Cyan, mobster or not, loves her deeply.
“You look beautiful, Aria,” Aunt Cathy says as we gather in the bridal suite of the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, the largest Catholic church in Boston.
“Yes, Auntie Aria, you look like a princess. I wish Auntie Gracie could see you in the dress,” Evie says softly.
That sweet girl has seen more than any child should.
Lucilla ripped the magic of childhood from her, leaving scars no one can see.
Aria told me Thomas still hasn’t told Evie that Lucilla isn’t her real mother.
Gracie, though stable, remains in a coma.
The doctors say her brain function is intact. It’s up to her now.
Aria bends down to kiss Evie’s cheek. “I know, honey. I wish Auntie Gracie were here too.”
“Y’all are gonna make me cry,” Saaha singsongs, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” I say. “When we visited Gracie yesterday, we made her a promise. She’d want us to embrace life, make new memories, and have amazing stories to share when she wakes up.” My voice cracks, but I hold back the tears.
“I’m not worried at all,” Rosa says from across the room. “Gracie’s a fighter. She’ll be fine.”
“Okay, ladies, let’s get out there. It’s time for me to get hitched!” Aria exclaims with excitement. She’s glowing and confident. The shy girl I met in college is long gone. Today, she becomes the wife of Cyan MacBrady, the Don of the American Syndicate.
We step into the grand cathedral hallway, surrounded by ornate walls and soaring ceilings.
I’m thankful the ceremony follows a traditional Italian wedding.
The groom is at the altar, the best man and groomsmen are waiting, and the bridesmaids walk ahead.
Aria chose this path because she didn’t have enough bridesmaids to match Cyan’s brothers, and she didn’t want anyone left out.
I peek into the main hall. Boston’s elite and all the Capos from around the country pack the church, shoulder to shoulder.
The air hums with wealth and reverence. This isn’t just a wedding.
It’s a coronation. Murmurs swirl, then silence falls as Cyan steps forward into the light.
He stands like a king claiming his crown, commanding silent respect with just a glance.
The organ begins. Mira Fastone, the most exclusive wedding planner in the city, hands Evie her basket.“Okay, ready, Miss Evie?” Mira asks.
Evie starts down the aisle, grace in every step, dropping flowers.
Then, one by one, Saaha, Judit, Rosa, and I follow behind.
When I reach the altar, I step to the bride’s side, not making eye contact with Collin, though I feel his stare burning into me.
The music shifts to the bridal march. Everyone rises, and there she is.
Aria. A vision in white. Radiant and beautiful.
Her grandmother sits in a wheelchair beside her, pushed by Cathy.
Cyan hired a full medical team to make this happen.
Despite her earlier stoicism, Aunt Cathy is openly crying now.
Aria is gripping her Nonna’s hand as they move together down the aisle.
When Aria reaches Cyan, she takes his hand, and Cathy leads her grandmother to the front pew to Pauline.
Beside me, Cathy takes her place again. I watch, awed, as two worlds, old and new, come together beneath sacred vows.
The ceremony is steeped in tradition. We aren’t just celebrating a union; we’re honoring the beginning of a new dynasty.
As the newlyweds walk back down the aisle, applause erupts. The reception that follows is every bit as opulent. The venue glows in white and gold, draped in yellow hibiscus flowers like something from a dream. Vows give way to laughter and toasts. Clinking glasses. Whispered deals.
Capos mingle with the city’s elite. Every handshake means something. Every smile is weighted.
As the night stretches on, I pretend to sip champagne and smile like I’m just another guest. But I know better. I see what others miss. Now that I’ve fulfilled my promises to Aria, it’s time to face my future and my mistakes. Aria is pregnant. And so am I.
The difference? She loves the man she’s having a child with. I fear mine.
I fucked up. I slept with Collin the night of Aria’s bachelorette party. Now he thinks he owns me. It’s like foster care all over again. His eyes haven’t left me all night and are currently boring a hole through poor Jerome, my date, who’s done nothing but try to keep me company.
Aria has Cyan. She’s safe. She’s home. Now, I have to leave Boston.
I’m carrying the Executioner’s baby. If he finds out, it’s game over.
The End