MASTER TITLE: “DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO FEED THAT OLD MAN? YOU’RE A MAID, NOT A CHARITY WORKER!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE SCREAMED, THROWING THE DINNER I’d PREPARED INTO THE TRASH.

Spring arrived in Chicago, bringing blooming tulips and warm sunlight streaming through the massive arched windows of the Moretti estate.

The criminal trials concluded with maximum sentences for Vincenzo and Vanessa Bellini with no chance of parole.

The Bellini corporate empire was dissolved, its remaining assets redistributed entirely to fund charitable foundations across the state.

The Maria Moretti Community Kitchen expanded into three new districts, feeding thousands of struggling families every single week.

My mother moved into a beautiful, sunlit cottage in the suburbs, completely cured and living comfortably with round-the-clock peace of mind.

And I no longer wore a maid’s uniform.

Instead, I stood beside Luca at the grand reopening gala of the central community kitchen, wearing a stunning emerald-green dress that sparkled under the crystal chandeliers.

Hundreds of guests applauded as Luca took the podium, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me close against his side.

“We built this foundation on kindness, resilience, and family,” Luca spoke into the microphone, his eyes scanning the cheering crowd before resting lovingly on me.

“And most importantly, on a simple pair of dinner rolls wrapped in a white napkin.”

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheering.

Luca leaned down, whispering softly against my ear in the middle of the roaring celebration.

“Ready for our next chapter, Emma?”