Chapter 40 #2
"Back in the car outside her place, you admitted you had feelings for her.
Complicated ones." His fingers drum the desk.
"I let it slide because we were in the thick of it.
Threats piling up. Rina's pregnancy weighing on everything.
But now she's healing under your roof and this war's still live.
That's not a complication anymore. That's a commitment. "
I meet his eyes. No point in denying it. "It is."
He nods slowly like he's been waiting for me to catch up.
"Good. Because if you're all in—protecting her, loving her through the wreckage—then you're not just my consigliere anymore.
You're family. That means the lines blur.
My trust in you doesn't waver, Marco, but the risks do.
One wrong move from the Irish, one slip in your focus, and it's not just the organization that bleeds. It's her. It's you."
The weight of it lands hard but it's not a warning. He's throwing down a gauntlet. I've carried Vito's faith for years but this is different. He's handing me something deeper. "I won't let that happen. She's my priority now. Same as yours is Rina."
A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth—rare and earned. "Then prove it. Help her rebuild. And when Liam's deal closes, we'll talk about what comes next for you two. No more shadows."
He studies me. "You love her."
It's not a question but I answer anyway. "Yes."
"Good. She needs someone who sees her strength instead of her trauma." He starts gathering papers on his desk. "Take care of her, Marco. She's been through hell but she's still standing. That's rare."
"I will." I turn to leave but stop at the door. "Actually, boss, I need to ask you something."
"What is it?"
My heart pounds. I've faced down armed men without breaking a sweat but this question makes my palms slick.
"I'd like your permission to marry Elena."
Vito freezes. Looks up at me with surprise in his eyes.
Then he laughs. Actually laughs.
"Marco, I think you're asking the wrong person." Vito gestures toward the door. "She can make that decision herself. She's proven she doesn't need anyone's permission for anything."
The words land like truth. He's right. Of course he's right.
"But if you're asking for my blessing—" Vito's expression softens. "You have it. You've earned it. Just make sure you ask her properly."
Relief floods through me. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. If you hurt her, Rina will kill you before I get the chance."
A sound at the door makes us both turn. Elena stands in the doorway with tears already streaming down her face.
"You were listening," I say.
"I heard my name and I..." She steps into the room. "You asked Vito for permission to marry me?"
My heart pounds. This isn't how I planned it but maybe there is no perfect plan. Maybe this moment is exactly right because it's real.
"I did. But he's right—I should be asking you." I close the distance between us. Take her hands in mine. "Elena Messina, I love you. I've loved you since before I knew what to do with the feeling. Since you told me to get out of your apartment. Since you made me chase you across half of Manhattan."
She laughs through her tears.
"You're the strongest person I know. The bravest. The most infuriating and incredible woman I've ever met." I bring her hands to my lips. "You faced hell and came out the other side still fighting. Still standing. Still you."
"Marco—"
"Let me finish." I need to say this. All of it. "I know you're still healing. I know there are hard days ahead. I know we'll have moments where the past tries to drag you back down. But I want to be there for all of it. The good days and the bad ones. The nightmares and the victories."
Her fingers tighten on mine.
"Marry me," I say. "Not because Vito gave permission or because it's expected or because of anything that happened.
Marry me because I want to spend the rest of my life watching you be extraordinary.
Because I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night.
Because you're mine and I'm yours and I don't want that to ever change. "
For a moment she just stares at me. Tears streaming. Bottom lip trembling.
Then she throws her arms around my neck and kisses me.
The kiss tastes like salt and promise and forever.
When she pulls back just enough to speak, her breath mingles with mine. "Yes."
The word is barely a whisper but it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
"Yes to all of it. The good days and the bad days and everything in between." She cups my face in her hands. "I love you, Marco Conti. Even when you're overprotective and bossy and trying to force-feed me like a baby bird."
I laugh and kiss her again. She melts into me like she was made to fit there.
Behind us, Vito clears his throat. "Congratulations. Now get out of my office before Rina hears and starts planning a wedding before you've even picked a ring."
Elena turns in my arms without letting go. "Thank you, Vito. For everything."
"Don't thank me. Just be happy." His voice softens. "Your mother would be so proud of you, Elena. Of the woman you've become."
Fresh tears spill down her cheeks but she's smiling. "I hope so."
We leave hand in hand. Down the hallway. Into the elevator.
Elena reaches past me and presses the button for the lobby instead of our floor.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
She looks up at me with mischief dancing in her eyes—the first real spark of her old self I've seen since I found her in that cell. "Plant shopping."
"Plant shopping."
"I need more greenery for our apartment.
Plus I saw this gorgeous monstera at the nursery a while back and I've been thinking about it ever since.
" She's already pulling out her phone to look up addresses.
"There's a place in Brooklyn that has the best selection.
Oh! And we should stop for pastries on the way. I'm starving."
My chest tightens with something that feels suspiciously like joy. This is the Elena I fell in love with. The one who drags me to plant stores and lectures me about proper watering schedules. The one who got excited about croissants and new leaves unfurling.
She's still here. Bruised and scarred but still here.
"Whatever you want, little fox."
The elevator doors open to the lobby. Afternoon sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Elena steps out first and I follow.
She doesn't let go of my hand.
We walk out into the afternoon. The city bustles around us—cars honking, people rushing past, the smell of roasting chestnuts from a vendor on the corner.
Normal. Ordinary. Perfect.
Everything that happened—the kidnapping, the assault, the violence—it doesn't disappear. The scars remain. They'll always remain. Some days will be harder than others. Some nights she'll wake up terrified and I'll have to remind her where she is. Who she's with.
But we'll face those days together.
Because we're not just our trauma. We're also this. Two people who found each other in the darkness and chose to walk toward the light.
Elena tilts her face up to the sun and smiles. Really smiles. Then she tugs on my hand.
"Come on, slowpoke. That monstera isn't going to buy itself."