Chapter 23 Amber
AMBER
The table is covered in photographs.
I stand there staring at them, my hands hovering uselessly over the glossy paper, afraid that if I touch them they’ll vanish. Like this is all some elaborate trick my brain is playing on me after the adrenaline crash.
But it isn’t.
It’s Coral.
Three years older. Thinner. The sharp angles of her face more pronounced, shadows sitting under her eyes like she hasn’t slept properly in a long time. Her hair is shorter, darker. Her smile, when she manages one, looks practiced, careful.
She’s alive. It’s all that matters to me.
My throat tightens so hard it hurts.
“She’s here,” I whisper. “She was here all along.”
Giovanni stands behind me, close enough that I can feel him without looking. Solid. Real.
“Yes,” he says.
I swallow and force myself to keep looking.
Next to Coral in several of the pictures is a man I don’t recognize. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. His hand is always positioned just a little too close to her arm, her back, her waist.
Possessive.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Georg Pavlov,” Giovanni answers. “Anton’s brother.”
The name clicks into place with a sickening snap.
“Anton,” I breathe. “The one who tried to force-marry Rose.”
“Yes.”
“He stalked her,” I say slowly. “Back then. He decided he wanted her, so he sent Sasha to follow her and grab her.”
Giovanni nods. “When Anton was set to marry rich, Georg saw an opportunity to do whatever the hell he wanted. And when Brooklyn ran—when Rose escaped—he went through with it anyway, but in secret.”
My stomach churns. “He married Coral,” I breathe. “Against her wishes.”
“Quietly,” Giovanni says. “No announcements. No witnesses outside their circle. No records that matter.”
I close my eyes for a second.
“He keeps her at his home,” he continues. “Hidden. Lorenzo says it’s not looking good.”
Fear punches through me, sharp and sudden.
Then relief follows, just as powerful.
She’s alive.
Not free. Not safe. But alive.
I can’t imagine what she must have been through. Three years in the hands of that monster. But the fact that she’s still alive, that I can still reach her if I’m fast enough—
I turn to Giovanni, my chest heaving. “Thank you. For finding her. I’ll take it from here.”
“What?” He doesn’t even pause. “No.”
I frown. “Giovanni—”
“We,” he corrects. “We’ll take it from here.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he steps closer.
“If you haven’t understood it yet,” he says gently, “you’re the one. You’re mine. That’s what the mia in gemma mia stands for.”
My breath catches.
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small box. When he opens it, the light catches on a diamond ring so bright it almost hurts to look at.
“When we save Coral,” he says, steady and certain, “I’ll put this on your finger.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
“I’ll put your family back together,” he continues. “And then we’ll grow it. Ours.”
My eyes burn.
“Because the truth is,” Giovanni says, holding my gaze, “I’ve loved you since the day I saw you.”
I let out a shaky laugh, tears spilling freely now. “You’re insane.”
“Yes,” he agrees calmly. “But I’m serious.”
I look back down at Coral’s face. At proof. At truth.
Then back at the man who brought her back to me.
“Okay,” I say.
His eyebrows lift slightly.
“Let’s save Coral,” I say. “And then—” My voice breaks, but I smile through it. “Then let’s get married.”
He closes the box and pulls me into his arms.
I melt in his arms. It feels like a burden has been lifted off my shoulder, and I am now allowed to feel hopeful and look forward to a future. A good one.
Everything feels real. .