Chapter 27
Alessio
The FBI debriefing happened in our living room with both babies sleeping in their bassinets.
Marco was dead. His network was crumbling—seventeen arrests in the past week, more coming daily. The threat that had consumed our lives for over a year was finally, permanently neutralized.
But consequences remained.
Special Agent Rodriguez sat across from me, files spread on the coffee table. "Your cooperation has been invaluable, Mr. Valestri. The testimony you provided, the connections you identified—we've closed cases that have been open for years."
"But?" I asked, hearing it in her tone.
"But your confession video is comprehensive. Damning. We can't ignore it." She met my eyes. "The deal we're offering is fair, but it's not a free pass. You'll serve time."
Valentina's hand found mine, fingers interlacing automatically.
"How much time?" she asked.
"The prosecutor is recommending eight to twelve weeks in minimum security, with credit for cooperation and time already served during the investigation.
Could be as little as six weeks of actual custody.
" Rodriguez pulled out documents. "In exchange, you provide testimony against Marco's external associates—the cartels, the corrupt officials, the international connections. Not the Valestri family operations."
"They want him to testify against everyone except his own people," Valentina said.
"Correct. We recognize Mr. Valestri has formally transferred leadership and stepped away from active operations. We're not asking him to destroy his former family. Just to help us dismantle Marco's network."
Six to twelve weeks. Not years. Not decades.
The deal was better than I had any right to expect. Eighteen years running a criminal organization, and I was looking at weeks instead of decades. The cooperation, the testimony, taking down Marco's network—it had bought me something close to freedom.
I didn't question it. Just accepted the gift for what it was.
"What about Valentina?" I asked. "Full immunity?"
"Complete immunity. She was a victim throughout, and her cooperation has been exemplary." Rodriguez looked at Valentina. "You're free, Ms. DeLuca. No charges, no consequences. Your children are legally yours with no complications."
Relief transformed Valentina's face.
"When would he report?" she asked.
"Seventy-two hours. Gives you time to arrange childcare, finalize details."
Seventy-two hours. Three days before, I had to leave my newborn children and the woman I loved.
"I'll take the deal," I said.
After Rodriguez left, I found Domenico on the back porch.
He stood facing the mountains, smoke from his cigarette curling into the cold air.
In twenty-three years, I'd seen Domenico smoke maybe half a dozen times—never during firefights, never during the attacks on the safe houses, never even when I was bleeding out on an operating table.
Only when something weighed on him so heavily that he couldn't hold it inside.
This was one of those times.
"You heard?" I asked.
"Rodriguez briefed me before the meeting." He took a drag, exhaled slowly. "Six to twelve weeks. Could be worse."
"Could be better."
"Could be twenty years if you'd refused to cooperate." He turned to face me. "This is the right call, Alessio. You pay for your past, then you're free. Clean slate."
"Is it though? A clean slate?" I moved to stand beside him. "I ran the Valestri family for eighteen years. Did things that can't be erased by a few weeks in minimum security."
"No. But you can choose differently going forward. That's what matters." He crushed out the cigarette. "So. The succession. We doing this formally?"
This was it. The conversation we'd been building toward since I'd broken the blood oath for Valentina.
"The Valestri family is yours," I said. "Full leadership transfer. You run the organization however you see fit—continue operations, transition to legitimate business, whatever you decide. I'm out completely."
"Alessio—"
"But Valentina and the children are sacred. Protected by the full weight of the Valestri name and resources. No one touches them. Ever. That's the price of succession."
Domenico studied my face for a long moment.
"You're sure about this? Walking away from everything you've built?"
"I've never been more sure of anything. That world nearly destroyed her.
Nearly destroyed us. I won't risk it touching my children.
" I met his eyes. "You've been my brother for twenty-three years.
Saved my life more times than I can count.
You've earned this. The family will thrive under your leadership. "
"It won't be the same without you."
"It'll be better. You're smarter, more strategic. Less bound by the old codes that trapped our fathers." I gripped his shoulder. "This is right, Dom. You know it is."
He nodded slowly, then pulled me into a brief, fierce embrace—the kind that said everything words couldn't.
"I accept," he said quietly. "The family is mine. Your wife and children are untouchable. I swear it on our brotherhood, on Eva's memory, on everything I am."
The oath was formal and binding—the kind that couldn't be broken, not in our world. The Valestri empire would continue without me.
And I was free.
That night, after the babies were finally asleep, I found Valentina in the nursery.
She stood between their bassinets, one hand on each, watching them breathe.
"They're okay," I said softly.
"I know. I just—" Her voice caught. "In three days you leave. And I'm terrified of doing this alone."
"You won't be alone. Sofia, Livia, Domenico—they'll all be here. And it's only six weeks, maybe less."
"Six weeks feels like forever."
I crossed to her and pulled her carefully against my chest. "I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
I stepped back and pulled the small box from my pocket. Opened it.
Inside, a simple platinum band with a single perfect diamond—nothing ostentatious, nothing that screamed mob money. Just beautiful, timeless, hers.
"Marry me," I said. "Not when I get out. Not someday. Now. Before I leave. I want to be your husband, not just the father of your children. I want you to be my wife—legally, officially, completely."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Alessio—"
"I know the timing is insane. I know I'm about to leave for six weeks. But Valentina, I've loved you since that motel room. Since you pointed a gun at me with shaking hands and chose to fight instead of giving up. I want to marry you. Please."
"Yes," she whispered. "A thousand times yes."
I slipped the ring onto her finger—perfect fit, like I'd known it would be.
"Tomorrow," I said. "Courthouse wedding. Small. Just Sofia, Domenico, and Livia. The babies. Us."
"Can we even get a license that fast?"
"Montana has no waiting period. We can apply in the morning and be married by afternoon."
"Tomorrow," she agreed, kissing me desperately. "Make me your wife tomorrow, then come home to me as fast as you can."
"I promise, principessa."
The courthouse ceremony was brief and perfect.
Valentina wore a simple cream dress, held Eva while I held Ezio. Sofia cried through the entire thing. Livia recorded it on her phone. Domenico stood as my best man, grinning like he'd won something.
"Do you, Alessio Valestri, take Valentina DeLuca to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do." No hesitation. Complete certainty.
"Do you, Valentina DeLuca, take Alessio Valestri to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do." Her voice was steady, eyes shining.
"By the power vested in me by the state of Montana, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
I handed Ezio to Domenico, cupped Valentina's face in both hands, and kissed my wife.
She was mine. Officially. Legally. Completely.
When we broke apart, the small group erupted in applause.
Sofia hugged us both, careful of Eva between us. "My baby is married. With babies of her own."
"Congratulations, fratello," Domenico said, pulling me into a brief embrace. "You earned this."
Livia just smiled, tears streaming. "Sisters stick together. Even at weddings."
We signed papers, took photos, and celebrated with the champagne Sofia had brought—sparkling cider for Valentina since she was still nursing.
Then we went home.
Our last night together before I reported.
Sofia took the babies for the evening—insisted on it despite Valentina's protests.
"You need one night as husband and wife," she said firmly. "Just you two. I'll bring them back in the morning."
After they left, the house felt too quiet.
Valentina stood in our bedroom doorway, still wearing the cream dress, wedding ring catching lamplight.
"Hi, husband," she said softly.
"Hi, wife." I crossed to her and pulled her close. "How does it feel?"
"Terrifying. Perfect. Right." She looked up at me. "We're really married."
"Really married." I traced her jaw with gentle fingers. "You're mine now. Legally. Forever."
"I was always yours. The paperwork just made it official."
I kissed her then—slow, deep, full of everything I felt. Love and desire and a desperate need to memorize this moment.
Tomorrow, I'd leave. For six weeks, maybe more. Leaving her alone with two newborns while I paid for my past.
But tonight, we had this.
"Make love to me," she whispered against my lips. "Like it's our last night."
"It's not our last night. It's our first night. As husband and wife." I swept her into my arms and carried her to the bed. "And I'm going to make sure you remember it the entire time I'm gone."
I set her down gently, mindful of her still-healing body. She'd been medically cleared, but I'd be careful anyway. Always careful with her.
I reached for the zipper of her dress and drew it down slowly. The fabric whispered as it fell, pooling at her feet in cream silk.
She stood before me in simple white lace—nothing elaborate, just beautiful.
"You're staring," she said, shy suddenly.
"You're my wife. I'm allowed to stare."
"Fair point."