Epilogue Lucy
Six Months Later
Maria Flores looks at me across the dingy diner table.
Midnight Cafe is busy at ten in the morning deep in West Philly.
I’m in designer shoes, slacks, a nice button-down, muted makeup, and my hair pulled back, and I stand out among the working-class people around me.
Plumbers are at the counter, electricians are grouped toward the back.
A couple of cops are drinking coffee, and one of them laughs loudly.
Maria fits in better, wearing jeans and a simple sweater, though she still screams “email office job.”
“I’m trying hard to believe you,” she says, sipping her coffee. “But this is a lot to take in.”
“I totally understand.” I sit up straight and lean forward. “Does it help if I write the check right now?”
“Probably, but it’s not really how we do things. I mean, there are forms to fill out, people to loop in. We’re talking a lot of money here.”
“Oh, I know. One point two million is a big deal.”
“That’s like… four years of operating budget.” She laughs, a little hysterical. “I still can’t believe you’re serious.”
I glance to the side. Adriano’s tucked at the far end of the counter with Vittorio by his side.
Both men are pretending like they’re not watching me, but I know they mean well.
My husband would never let me go anywhere without a little protection.
It doesn’t matter where—diner on the west side, bar in Old City.
He’s a big, obsessive grizzly bear, and I love that man with all my damn heart.
“When I was younger, my father died of an overdose. My mother spiraled after that, going really heavy on the drinking and the drugs, and died in a car accident not long later. I’m telling you that so you understand. This cause is personal to me.”
Maria’s face softens. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“I know my last name was Willing-Morris. My last name now is Marino. I have a lot of privilege, but tragedy doesn’t care how much money you have in the bank.”
“Makes tragedy easier to handle though when you’re filthy rich.”
I smile slightly. “You’d think.”
“Listen, Mrs. Marino?—”
“Call me Lucy. Please.”
“Okay. Lucy. I’d be happy to take your money. It’ll help a lot of people. Serenity Steps is always understaffed and working on a shoestring budget. This money will go a long way.”
“Then good. Talk to the right people. Loop them in. Send my assistant the paperwork. We’ll get the money deposited into your bank account tomorrow.”
Finally, she looks like she believes me. Her body seems to relax, and she laughs like she can’t believe it. “Thank you so much. Seriously, this is… this is incredible.”
“I’m happy to do it.”
We talk logistics for a little bit longer. She tells me stories of the single mothers they try to help. Serenity Steps focuses on drug and alcohol rehabilitation for underprivileged Philadelphia folks, and it’s one of many organizations doing good work throughout the city.
When we’re done, she gives me a quick hug. “Thank you again. This is life-changing for our clients. If there’s anything you ever need from me personally, please reach out.”
“Actually, there’s something.” I squeeze her arm as we walk to the door together. “Email me the names of more organizations like yours. Any you think are doing good work and need some help.”
“I mean, I’d be happy to.” She shakes her head. “Thank you, Lucy.”
“Good luck.”
Maria heads out into the morning. I turn away and can feel him right behind me. Adriano’s smiling, his beautiful lips turned up, his eyes dark and stormy.
“How’d it go?” he asks.
“Easy-peasy. Always is when I’m throwing money at them.”
He snorts a laugh, and we leave together. Vittorio’s still inside, paying the bill. “How much is she getting?”
“One point two. Think it should be more?”
“Start there and see how they do with it. Then we’ll reconsider.” He puts an arm around my shoulders and hugs me close. I lean my head into him, smiling a bit. “With this new art income flow, we’ll have the funds to send your way.”
“Never thought a crime family would be so into charity.”
“Normally, we wouldn’t, but the Don is very smitten with his lovely wife and will do whatever she asks.”
“Lucky girl.” I stop and give him a quick kiss. “I should get home to Alessia.”
“You don’t have to rush. Donatella’s got her.”
“You know how I am. New mom and all that. She’s only six months old.”
“And she’ll be fine for a few hours.” He tugs me against him and buries my mouth in a blistering kiss.
“Easy there.” I sigh and lean tighter. “Otherwise, we might make another one of those kids.”
“That’s the plan.”
I kiss him again, but we’re interrupted when Vittorio calls Adriano’s name. “You two just going to stand there and make out on the sidewalk like a couple of freaks?” he asks, smirking as he leans against the car.
“Probably.” Adriano scowls at him. “Is that how you talk to your Don?”
“Only when he’s being a freak.” Vittorio waves. “I’m taking the BMW. You two can walk.”
“Happily,” I say, holding Adriano’s hand. “I always say he needs more exercise.”
“Well, shit,” he grumbles.
Vittorio drives off, leaving me with my doting, dangerous killer of a husband. We head down the shady West Philly sidewalk, moving toward the South Street Bridge and beyond that, our little kingdom.
“You know, the pieces haven’t come together perfectly, but I’m happy with what we built,” Adriano comments. “Marcy DeLuca’s a pain in my ass, but we have more allies than we ever did before.”
“Life is good,” I agree.
“You sure you want to throw another baby into that mess?”
A little thrill runs through my stomach. “I’m pretty sure.”
“Good.” He kisses my neck. “Because I have a suite waiting in a hotel nearby.”
“Adriano, you’re taking me to a hotel for sex in the middle of the day?” I pretend to be affronted, clutching at my nonexistent pearls. “What am I, some kind of prostitute?”
“Better than that.” He bites my lower lip. “You’re my wife. Are you going to complain, or are you coming?”
“Coming, like always.”
Keep reading for a preview of Cruel Tyrant!