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Vincent’s hand trembled, and for a moment, I thought he might actually pull the trigger. But then his shoulders slumped, the gun lowering inch by inch.
“You son of a bitch,” he muttered, dropping the weapon.
Marco’s men moved in swiftly, securing Vincent and the others. I watched as they were disarmed, their faces a mix of rage and defeat
“Take them to the warehouse on Fifth,” Marco ordered. “I’ll deal with them later.”
As they were led away, Antonio turned back. “This isn’t over, Vercetti.”
“It was over before it began.” Marco’s voice carried no emotion, just cold certainty.
Once we were alone, I turned to Marco. “You knew. All this time, you knew what they were planning.”
“I did.” His dark eyes met mine. “And I needed you to see them for who they really were.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You needed to come to your own conclusions about them. About me.”
I thought about all the moments that had led us here the careful way he’d let me make my own choices, how he’d never pushed or demanded. Even when I’d doubted him, fought against him, he’d remained steady.
“You’re really not who they say you are, are you?” I searched his face. “You’re indeed more powerful than you’ve
let on.”
A small smile played at his lips. “Does that change things?”
“No.” The answer came without hesitation. “It just makes me wonder why you hide it.”
“People underestimate what they don’t fear.” His thumb traced my cheekbone. “It’s served me well.”
I leaned into his touch, understanding flowing through me. Every move he’d made had been calculated, planned. comehow, in the midst of all his schemes and strategies, what we’d built between us felt real.
“What happens now?” I asked
“Now?” His eyes darkened. “Now we deal with the aftermath.”
I followed Marco through the empty halls of his mansion, our footsteps echoing against marble floors. The events of the night still played through my mind.
“Your men will keep them secure?” I asked
“The warehouse is one of my most fortified locations.” Marco loosened his tie. “No one gets in or out without my
bay
We reached his study, and he poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to me. The amber liquid caught the
light from his desk lamp
You’re taking this remarkably
well,” he said.
I took a sip, letting the burn steady my nerves. “Finding out the man I’ve been falling for is actually the most. powerful mafia boss in New York? Just another Tuesday.”
His laugh was low, genuine. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”
“You were. I just…” I set down my glass. “Looking back, there were signs. The way people deferred to you. How problems seemed to solve themselves whenever you got involved.”
Marco moved closer, his presence both comforting and overwhelming “I never meant to deceive you. Everything between us – that’s been real.”
“I know.” And I did know. Despite all the lies and manipulation swirling around us, Marco had been my one constant. “But we can’t ignore what this means. The target on our backs just got bigger.
“Let them come.” His fingers traced my jawline. “Vincent was inevitable. Now we can deal with them openly.”
“As partners?”
“As equals.” His eyes held mine. “I’ve never wanted anything less.”
The weight of his words settled over me. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about power, about reshaping the underworld into something different. Something better.
“Your father would be proud,” Marco said softly. “You’ve grown into exactly the leader he hoped you’d be.”
I stepped closer, letting my hand rest against his chest. “We’re not done yet. Vincent and Antonio still have allies. People who won’t take kindly to their downfall.”
“Good.” A dangerous smile played at his lips. “I’m counting on it.”
I leaned against Marco’s chest, the events of the day swirling in my mind. Just hours ago, I’d stood beside him in the cathedral, my white dress a stark contrast to his black tuxedo. The memory of his vows still echoed in my ears.
“I still can’t believe we got through the ceremony,” I said, fingering the delicate lace of my now–wrinkled wedding dress. “Before Vincent crashed the reception.”
Marco’s hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my new wedding ring. “You were breathtaking. When your
walked down that aisle…”
“You actually looked nervous.” I smiled at the memory. “The great Marco Vercetti, fidgeting at the altar.”
“I was.” His admission surprised me. “Not about marrying you. But about being worthy of you.”
I turned in his arms, studying his face. Even now, with his tie loosened and his hair slightly mussed from the fight, he looked every bit the man I’d fallen for. “Do you remember what Father Varkey said? About how love finds us
in unexpected places?”
“I remember thinking he had no idea how right he was.” Marco’s fingers traced the beading on my bodice. “When you said ‘I do,‘ I almost forgot to breathe.”
The reception had been perfect too, at least until Vincent showed up. The flowers, the music, the way Marco had held me during our first dance. For those brief moments, we weren’t mafia royalty – we were just a man and woman in love.
“Our dance,” I murmured. “The way you looked at me…”
“Like you were the only person in the room?” His voice dropped lower. “You were. You are.”
I reached up, running my fingers through his dark hair. “I wish we’d gotten to finish it.”
“We will.” Marco pulled me closer. “Once this is handled, we’ll have our own private reception. Just us.”
855 AM
Mafia Quems Engagedte The Lash
The tenderness in his touch contrasted sharply with the steel I’d witnessed earlier when
This was the Marco only I got to see – the man behind the power, behind the reputation.
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips. “Mr. Vercetti.”
“I love you too, Mrs. Vercetti.”
