Epilogue
Sofia - Four Months Later
A weak December sun was just beginning to set over the cemetery, peeking through the trees that bordered the rows and rows of headstones with brilliant rays of amber that turned the light dusting of snow a deep cerulean hue. Underfoot, the snow crunched over autumn's last gasp of fallen leaves, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet space. Even the biting wind seemed to have gotten the hint, slowing to a halt as if to respect the dead in their final resting places.
Luca and I walked side by side down the rows of grave markers, our breaths coming out in white puffs of frosted air. To an outsider, his arm around my shoulders might have looked casual and protective, but I could feel the tremble of his muscles, the tension in his grip as I helped him move. Four months on, and he was finally starting to feel like his old self, but his body was still recovering. It probably always would be, in some ways, the trauma too deep to ever completely go away. But he was alive and he was getting stronger every day, and that was more than enough for me.
Death had always been in my periphery. I had scented its sweet decay, felt the bottom drop out in the aftermath of its impact, and heard its echoes. Always, though, it hovered in the wings. Stalking the edges, never quite meeting me head-on.
Until Luca.
The cemetery was the perfect juxtaposition of life and death. The trees were bare, their branches stark and skeletal against the backdrop of the setting sun, the sky a brilliant orange, fading into pink and purple as the light dimmed, a reminder that even in the midst of darkness, there was always light.
I stopped when we reached Beth's grave, my eyes on the modest stone marker. The ground was too cold to kneel, but I bent over and placed the bouquet of roses soon to be claimed by frost at the base of the headstone, my hand lingering for a moment on the smooth granite before I straightened.
We'd missed the funeral. Like most things in the giddy whirlwind of Luca's recovery, it had passed forgotten, and neither of us had remembered until Luca was packing to leave the hospital. I'd felt a flood of guilt, but Luca had reminded me that it was what it was. We had to focus on the now, not the past. Not the things we couldn't change. So instead, we made a plan to visit once Luca was strong enough to make the trip. It was the least we could do for the friend whose death had set everything into motion.
The landscape of organized crime in Boston had changed yet again in the wake of Sal Giordano's death. Dominic's had been but a footnote in the flurry of newspaper articles about Sal's demise, which seemed fitting. Dominic Moretti had caused too many problems for far too long, and I, for one, would not be mourning him. As for Sal, well, the city had no idea what had really gone on behind closed doors, and we aimed to keep it that way. The less they knew, the better.
Julian was now the boss of the Moretti crime family, and he'd taken to the role like a duck to water. He'd already begun implementing changes, modernizing the organization and streamlining operations. The Morettis were now a force to be reckoned with, and Julian was the man at the helm.
And with Luca as his right-hand man.
Luca had been hesitant to take the job of consigliere at first, but after much discussion and a lot of soul-searching, he'd finally agreed to Julian's proposal. I'd been surprised by his decision, but I respected it. I knew that he wanted to make a difference, to right some of the wrongs that had been perpetuated by Lorenzo and his sons for far too long. The advisory role was perfect for Luca. It would allow him to have a say in the direction of the organization while also giving him the freedom to come and go as he pleased.
We had talked a lot about the future in the past few months. We still lived together in Luca's North End apartment, but we'd started to talk about maybe getting a place together, somewhere new, where the ghosts of the past wouldn't haunt us. A fresh start in this new world we were creating together.
In an ironic turn of events, I finally landed a job as under-secretary to the City Councilor of District One. That's right, I now worked for Alexander Hastings, the fake job I'd perpetuated for so long becoming a reality. It was still a bit of a sore spot between Julian and I, but I hoped that someday we'd be able to put it behind us. Especially since Luca had taken a position of authority in the family, and Julian had no reason to distrust me. Or so he claimed. I knew my brother, and I knew it was going to take more than a few apologies to make things right between us, but I was willing to try if he was. We'd both made mistakes in the past, and it was time to let go of the anger and move on. Life was too short.
Every day I spent with Luca was a reminder of that. He was doing better, getting stronger, but he would always carry those scars with him. The headaches still came but they were infrequent and not nearly as bad as before. Therapy helped, of course, as well as a doctor who would finally listen to Luca and work with him--Jerome Carter and Cassidy McTiernan were blasts from the past who had somehow come back into our lives at the exact right moment. It was a coincidence I couldn't help but think was maybe a little more than that. Luca had always believed that things happened for a reason, and I was beginning to think he was right. There were no such things as accidents, after all.
I looked up at him, his profile silhouetted against the setting sun, and I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. For someone who had come so close to losing everything not once but twice in the last two years, Luca was a walking miracle. The man had more lives than a cat, and he was still going strong.
"Thank you for bringing me here," I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. The stubble on his jaw tickled my palm, and I couldn't help but smile. "It means a lot."
"I wish we could've come sooner. Beth deserved better than that," Luca said. "She deserved some kind of closure. I hate that it had to be this way."
"I know. But I understand why. At least Beth's killer won't hurt anybody ever again. You kept your promise to me, Luca."
Luca shook his head. "I didn't kill Dominic. Julian did. And Dominic killed her. I didn't do shit. It was all a fucking disaster."
"You avenged my friend's death, and that of countless other innocent women, and you did it while protecting your family and your home," I said firmly, looking up into his eyes. "It's over now."
"I hope so," he said, looking at the grave marker. "Somehow, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of this."
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing myself close. I was determined to stay in the present, to enjoy this moment with Luca, not think about the future. I knew that whatever happened, we could face it together. "I love you, Luca. And whatever comes our way, we'll deal with it. Together."
"I love you too, baby. And you're right, we will deal with whatever comes our way. Come on, it's freezing. Let's go home."
As we walked arm in arm back through the cemetery, though, I couldn't help but feel like we were being watched. Call it a sixth sense born of living in the world I did, but as we made our way down the path back to where Luca's car was, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Slowly, so as not to worry Luca, I looked around as I got into the car. There was nobody in sight.
But that didn't mean they weren't out there.
I shivered as we pulled away, my skin crawling with the feeling of unseen eyes on my back. As much as I wanted to put it all behind me, this was just how it was going to be for us, living in the underworld. There were no true happily-ever-afters in a world like ours. Only the ones you made for yourself.
As Luca pulled away from the curb, there was a black SUV parked a little further down that I hadn't noticed before. The driver looked...familiar, and I craned my neck to get a glimpse as we passed. Pale blond hair pulled back into a severe bun, sunglasses despite the setting sun...
The woman who had handed Agent Sinclair the file folder during the interrogation. But why would she be following us while we visited Beth's grave?
"What's wrong?" Luca asked.
"I..." I shook my head, trying to clear the paranoia. I was seeing things that weren't there. The stress was getting to me, and the FBI had backed off weeks ago, according to Julian's contact in the agency. We were in the clear, I was sure. Mostly sure, at least.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"Are you sure? Because you look like you saw a ghost," Luca pressed. "Talk to me, baby. What's up?"
I shook my head, leaning back against the seat as we pulled out of the cemetery. "Just my imagination playing tricks on me. Let's just go."
As Luca pulled out into traffic, the woman I'd seen drifted further and further from my mind. By the time we got back home to his apartment, I'd all but forgotten about her. The lights were shining bright on the buildings down through Faneuil Hall, and the city was alive with holiday cheer. We got out and walked down the street, hand in hand, looking at the window displays and the twinkling lights strung up everywhere.
It was perfect. And I was determined to enjoy it.
What Luca and I had gone through had changed us. It had made us stronger, brought us closer together, and reminded us that life is short. We needed to seize every moment we had.
It was an outlook that seemed to affect not only us, but the entire family. Aria had, for once in her life, followed through with something and had pulled the trigger on the property downtown. Her love of fashion had morphed into an obsession with interior decorating, and renovations to the future nightclub were well underway, her vision for the space taking form.
Dante was still Dante, of course, but he was starting to settle down a bit. He'd met a woman, and although he wouldn't share anything about her with me, I could tell that things were getting serious. He was more focused, more driven, and more mature than I'd ever seen him before. I had a feeling that this relationship was going to be a good thing for him.
As for Julian and I, well, that was still a work in progress. There were still moments when I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but I was learning. Learning to let go of the past and trust my brother. We had a long road ahead of us, but I had faith that we could get there. Eventually. We both wanted the same thing, after all. To make sure our family was protected and safe. I just hoped that one day my brother would find a love like I had, someone he could let his guard down and lean on. As it was, he was always on edge, always worried. He needed to relax and let go of the control he was trying to maintain. He needed to learn to trust again.
And if he could, maybe one day, he and I could put our differences aside and be a family again. Maybe. One step at a time.
But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, it was just Luca and me. Just the two of us, alone in our own world. And that's all I needed. That's all I wanted. To be here, with the man I loved, and to enjoy every minute we had together.
Because tomorrow was never a guarantee in this world, and I intended to make the most of every second we had.
Luca and I walked down through the buildings lit with twinkle lights, over the rough cobblestones of Quincy Market until we reached the giant Christmas tree. The snow was falling gently, dusting our hair and shoulders. I was warm and happy, the stress of the past few months melting away like the snowflakes that landed on my skin. It was perfect, the lights twinkling on the tree, the snow falling softly, the sound of carols drifting through the air.
I still was lost in thought when I realized Luca had stopped walking. I turned to see why, and found him standing in front of me, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets.
"Luca? Are you all right?" I asked, a frown creasing my forehead. He seemed nervous, almost scared, and I couldn't imagine why. "Luca, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said, his voice soft. "Just...give me a minute."
He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled. Then he dropped to one knee in front of me, pulling a small velvet box out of his coat pocket.
My heart skipped a beat, and I could feel the color draining from my face. This was it. This was the moment I'd been waiting for. The moment I never thought would come. "Luca, what are you doing?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
He looked up at me, his dark eyes shining with emotion. "Four months ago, I was ready to die. Ready to give up. I had lost everything, and I was sure that my life was over. But then you came along. You saved me. Not just from the bullet, but from myself. You showed me that there was more to life than just existing. That there was happiness and love and hope. You gave me a reason to live. You gave me a reason to fight. I love you, Sofia. More than I ever thought possible. I know that our life isn't conventional. Hell, it's downright crazy sometimes. But I wouldn't change a single thing about it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to bed with you every night. I want to build a family with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to spend every moment we have together making new memories and creating a life that's ours. So, Sofia Russo, will you marry me?"
Tears streamed down my face as I stared at him, at the ring in his hand, the diamond sparkling in the light of the Christmas tree. It was beautiful and perfect, just like him. I couldn't speak, so I just nodded, my throat tight with emotion. Luca smiled and slid the ring onto my finger before standing up and pulling me into a hug.
"I love you, Sofia," he murmured. "Forever and always."
"I love you too, Luca," I said, finally finding my voice. "So much."
I don't know how long we stood there, holding each other, tears streaming down my cheeks, snow falling on our shoulders. It felt like forever and no time at all simultaneously, but eventually, I pulled back and wiped my cheeks dry with my sleeve. Luca kissed me softly before stepping away and holding out his hand.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go home."
Home. With Luca. Wherever he was, that was home.