Chapter 10 - Bloodline of the West SideI walked out through the tall French doors onto the private stone terrace overlooking the manicured gardens.
The autumn leaves on the ancient oak trees had turned brilliant shades of crimson, amber, and gold, swaying gently in the crisp breeze coming off Lake Michigan.
Luca stood beside the stone balustrade, wearing an open-collared navy cashmere sweater and dark trousers, looking out over the tranquil grounds.
When he heard my footsteps on the flagstones, he turned around.
His face lit up with that rare, breathtaking smile that never failed to make my heart race.
“There you are,” he murmured, walking forward to catch me around the waist, pulling me gently against his broad chest.
He buried his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.
“Vanilla, clean rain, and sweet basil,” he whispered against my skin, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “The only scent I ever want to come home to.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling against his cheek.
“Your mother kicked me out of the kitchen again, Luca.”
“My mother is a very wise woman,” Luca chuckled, his hands resting naturally on my hips. “And she knows that your hands have far more important work to do.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a small, antique velvet jeweler’s box lined with dark black silk.
My breath hitched in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“Luca…” I breathed, looking up into his soulful gray eyes.
He didn't hesitate.
He dropped onto one knee on the sunlit flagstones of the terrace, surrounded by the falling golden leaves and the gentle murmur of the fountain.
He opened the box.
Resting inside was an exquisite, hand-crafted ring of solid platinum, featuring a flawless, five-carat emerald-cut royal blue sapphire cradled by two delicate olive branches carved from white gold—a custom ring designed to match the historic necklace his mother had given me in the vault.
“Emma,” Luca began, his deep baritone carrying an emotional tremor that shook my entire being.
“Ten months ago, you entered this house wearing a maid’s apron, carrying folded towels and cleaning mirrors to keep your brother in school. You were surrounded by wealth, arrogance, and deceit, yet you never let this world tarnish the pure gold of your spirit.”
He looked up into my eyes, all the terrifying power of the syndicate sovereign dissolving into the vulnerable, unyielding devotion of a man who had found his home.
“You stood in my dining room and spoke the truth when everyone else was silent. You protected my mother’s dignity, you gave my daughter her smile back, and you taught me what family really means.”
He lifted the sapphire ring, holding it poised before my trembling finger.
“Emma Reed, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, Sophie’s mother, and the true Donna of my life, my home, and my heart?”
Tears of pure, unadulterated happiness spilled over my lashes, hot against my cheeks.
“Yes,” I choked out through my laughter, throwing my arms around his neck as he rose to his feet. “Yes, Luca! A thousand times yes!”
Luca swept me up into his arms, lifting me off the flagstones, spinning me beneath the vast autumn sky before bringing his lips down onto mine in a fierce, breathless, deeply tender kiss that sealed our destiny forever.
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He slid the sapphire ring onto my finger.
It fit with absolute, divine perfection, gleaming brilliantly beneath the Chicago sun.
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