Epilogue
ISABELLA
Six months later
I'm getting married in ten minutes and I can't find my left shoe.
"Alessia!" I'm on my hands and knees looking under the bed in the bridal suite. "Have you seen my—"
"Found it!" Bianca emerges from the closet holding the missing heel triumphantly. "It was behind the dress bags. How it got there is a mystery for the ages."
"Thank god." I stand up and take it from her, hopping on one foot while I try to get it on. "I was starting to think the universe was sending me a sign."
"The universe is not sending you signs," Alessia says, coming over to help me with the buckle. "The universe wants you to marry Enzo. We all want you to marry Enzo. Even the shoe wants you to marry Enzo, it was just playing hard to get."
I laugh and it comes out slightly hysterical because I'm getting married in ten minutes and I'm somehow both completely calm and absolutely losing my mind.
Six months.
Six months since the rescue. Six months since Matteo gave us his blessing. Six months of actually being together without hiding or sneaking around or worrying that someone was going to tear us apart.
Six months of waking up next to Enzo and falling asleep in his arms and learning what it feels like to be loved by someone who would literally burn down the world for you.
And now we're getting married.
"Okay, shoes on. Check." Bianca steps back and looks at me critically. "Hair?"
"Done," Alessia confirms.
"Makeup?"
"Perfect."
"Dress?"
I look down at myself. The dress is ivory silk, simple and elegant, fitted through the bodice and flowing from the waist, and when I move it catches the light in ways that make me feel like something out of a fairy tale.
"The dress is perfect," I say quietly.
"You're perfect," Bianca corrects. "The dress is just doing its job."
There's a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" Matteo's voice.
"Yes!" I call back.
The door opens and Matteo steps inside wearing a tux and an expression that makes my throat tight.
He stops when he sees me.
"Isabella," he says, and his voice does something complicated. "You look—"
"Don't make me cry," I warn him. "I just got my makeup done."
"I'm not making you cry. I'm just—" He stops and clears his throat. "You look beautiful. Mom would have loved this dress."
And now I'm crying.
"Damn it, Matteo."
Alessia and Bianca immediately descend with tissues and gentle dabs and murmured reassurances about waterproof mascara, and Matteo stands there looking guilty and fond in equal measure.
"Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine." I wipe my eyes carefully. "I'm just emotional. And happy. And terrified. And about fifteen other things all at once."
He crosses to me and takes my hands. "You don't have to be terrified. You love him. He loves you. That's all that matters."
"What if I trip walking down the aisle?"
"Then he'll catch you."
"What if I forget my vows?"
"Then you'll improvise. You're good at that."
"What if—"
"Isabella." His voice is gentle but firm.
"Stop spiraling. You're marrying the man you love.
The man who came back for you when you needed him most. The man who would die for you without hesitation.
" He squeezes my hands. "You're going to walk down that aisle and say I do and start the rest of your life with him. And it's going to be perfect. Okay?"
I nod because I don't trust my voice.
"Good." He kisses my forehead. "Now let's get you married before Enzo decides to storm in here and drag you to the altar himself."
"He wouldn't."
"He absolutely would," Bianca says. "I've seen the way that man looks at you. He's about five minutes away from breaking down the door."
We leave the bridal suite and move through the halls of Matteo's estate—our estate, technically, since I moved back in after the wedding planning started—and I can hear music playing, guests murmuring, the low hum of two hundred people waiting for a wedding to start.
A hundred people who are about to watch me marry Enzo Bianchi.
My heart is pounding so hard I think everyone can probably hear it.
We reach the doors to the garden where the ceremony is being held and I can see through the glass. White chairs arranged in rows. Flowers everywhere. An arch at the front covered in roses and ivy. And standing under that arch—
Enzo.
He's wearing a tux and he's talking to Rafael who's beside him as best man, and even from here I can see the way he keeps glancing toward the house, waiting for me to appear.
"Ready?" Matteo asks.
"So ready."
The doors open.
The music changes.
Everyone stands.
And I start walking.
Matteo is beside me, his arm linked with mine, keeping me steady, and I can see faces as we pass. Dante smiling. My sweet brother Luca giving me a thumbs up. Alessia and Bianca in the front row already crying.
But I'm only looking at one person.
Enzo.
He's staring at me like I'm the only thing in the world that exists, like everyone else has disappeared and it's just me and him and this moment, and the expression on his face makes my chest tight.
Love.
Pure, undiluted, overwhelming love.
We reach the front and Matteo stops and turns to me.
"Who gives this woman to be married?" the officiant asks.
"I do," Matteo says. "With my blessing and my love."
He kisses my cheek and then puts my hand in Enzo's and steps back, and suddenly I'm standing face to face with the man I'm about to marry.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi," he whispers back. "You're so beautiful I forgot how to breathe."
"That's going to make the vows difficult."
He laughs quietly, squeezes my hand, and we turn to face the officiant together.
The ceremony passes in a blur.
Words about love and commitment and partnership. Readings from poems I barely hear because I'm too focused on Enzo's hand in mine, on the way his thumb is moving in small circles on my skin, on the fact that this is real, this is happening, this is my life.
Then it's time for vows.
Enzo goes first.
He pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it with hands that shake slightly, and when he starts reading his voice is steady but thick with emotion.
"Isabella," he says. "Almost five years ago I stood on a porch and told you the cruelest thing I've ever said to another person because I was too much of a coward to admit what I actually felt.
I've regretted that moment every day since.
But I don't regret where it led us. Because every hard thing we went through, every separation, every fight, every moment of pain brought us here.
To this. To you in a white dress looking at me like I'm worth something. Like I'm worth everything."
He takes a breath.
"I promise to love you for the rest of my life.
I promise to protect you, to support you, to be the person you can count on when everything else falls apart.
I promise to never lie to you again, to never hide what I'm feeling, to never let fear make me cruel.
" His voice breaks slightly. "And I promise that every single day I will work to deserve you.
To be the man you see when you look at me like that. "
He folds the paper and looks at me directly.
"You're everything, Isabella. You've always been everything."
I'm crying openly now, tears running down my face, and I don't care about my makeup or the two hundred people watching or anything except him.
My turn.
I don't have paper. I didn't write anything down because I knew I wouldn't be able to read it without falling apart.
So I just speak from my heart.
"Enzo," I say, and my voice shakes but holds.
"When I was eighteen I told you I loved you and you broke my heart.
And I hated you for it. For years I hated you for it.
But somewhere along the way the hate turned back into love and I realized something—you broke my heart because you were trying to protect me.
You were doing what you thought was right even though it destroyed you too. "
I squeeze his hands.
"And then, when I needed you most, when I was trapped in the worst place I've ever been, you came for me.
You walked into that basement and you saved me again and you kept every promise you've ever made to me.
" I'm smiling through tears now. "So I'm making you a promise back.
I promise to love you even when you're being impossible.
I promise to call you out when you're being too controlled and too careful.
I promise to be your partner in everything—in this life, in this family, in whatever comes next. "
I reach up and wipe a tear from his cheek that I didn't even see fall.
"And I promise that you will never have to earn me. You already have me. You've always had me. Years ago, I was already yours. I just had to wait for you to be ready to be mine."
The officiant is saying something about rings and I barely register it because Enzo is looking at me with such raw emotion that I can barely stand it.
Rafael hands him a ring.
Enzo slides it onto my finger, his hands steady now, and says: "With this ring, I thee wed."
Bianca hands me Enzo's ring.
I slide it onto his finger and repeat: "With this ring, I thee wed."
"By the power vested in me," the officiant says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Enzo doesn't wait.
He pulls me against him and kisses me in front of two hundred people and I kiss him back with everything I have, with all the love and joy and relief that we made it, we actually made it, we survived everything they threw at us and came out the other side.
Everyone is clapping and cheering and I can hear Rafael wolf-whistling and Matteo laughing and none of it matters except Enzo's arms around me and his mouth on mine and the knowledge that this is real.
We're married.
We're actually married.
He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.
"Hello, Mrs. Bianchi," he says quietly.
"Hello, Mr. Bianchi."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Forever."
"Forever," I agree.
And then we're walking back down the aisle together, hand in hand, husband and wife, and everyone is throwing flower petals and cheering and I'm laughing and crying at the same time.
At the end of the aisle Matteo is waiting with Alessia beside him, and when we reach them, he pulls me into a hug.
"Congratulations," he says into my ear. "I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you," I whisper back. "For everything. For understanding. For letting us—"
"You're my sister. I want you happy. That's all I've ever wanted." He pulls back and looks at Enzo. "Take care of her."
"Always," Enzo says simply.
Matteo nods and then Luca is hugging me and Bianca is crying and Rafael is clapping Enzo on the back and everyone is talking at once.
The reception is a blur of food and dancing and toasts that make me laugh and cry in equal measure.
Rafael gives a speech about how Enzo used to be fun before he fell in love and now he's just insufferably happy all the time.
Matteo gives a speech about how he's gained a brother and only threatened to kill him twice this year which is real progress.
Dante gives a speech so short it's basically just "Congratulations, don't fuck it up."
And through all of it Enzo keeps his hand in mine, his thumb moving in those same small circles, grounding me, reminding me this is real.
When we finally escape to be alone—to the villa Matteo gave us as a wedding gift, private and perfect and ours—Enzo carries me over the threshold and sets me down gently in the middle of the living room.
"Well," I say, looking around at our home. "We did it."
"We did it," he agrees.
"No more hiding. No more sneaking around. No more people trying to keep us apart."
"Just you and me."
"Forever."
"Forever," he repeats, and pulls me close.
And when he kisses me this time it's different from all the other kisses, different because we're married now, because this is our home, because the rest of our lives start right here.
"I love you, Isabella Bianchi," he says against my lips.
"I love you too, Enzo Bianchi."
"Ready to start forever?"
I smile against his mouth.
"So ready."
Their love survived war. Their vows finally bind them. But peace in the Romano empire never lasts—and new alliances are already forming in the shadows.