THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME WALK INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH BLOOD SOAKING THROUGH MY LACE CUFF—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE CUT HERSELF ON AN ANTIQUE TEACUP,” BEFORE HE EVEN HEARD MY BREATH.

That evening, Alessandro arranged a private dinner for the two of us on the stone terrace overlooking the moonlit waters of Lake Como.

A gentle breeze rustled through the cypress trees, carrying the sweet scent of jasmine and lake water. Soft violin music drifted from the salon, and two crystal flutes of sparkling Franciacorta rested on the linen-covered table beside a vase of fresh white roses.

Alessandro was dressed in a sharp bespoke tuxedo, his dark eyes glowing with a nervousness I had never seen in the feared mafia boss.

After dinner, as we stood beside the stone balustrade watching the lights of the boats drift across the dark lake, Alessandro reached into his coat pocket.

He pulled out an antique velvet box lined with midnight-blue silk.

He opened it to reveal the legendary Barsotti Matriarch Ring—a breathtaking, flawless seven-carat cushion-cut emerald surrounded by two tapered baguette diamonds set in pure platinum.

It was the very ring that Elena Barsotti had worn on her wedding day thirty-five years ago.

Alessandro knelt down on one knee upon the ancient stone terrace, looking up at me with tears shining in his obsidian eyes.

“Clara Evans,” Alessandro spoke, his voice trembling with an emotion so deep, so pure, that it shook my very soul. “You bled for my house when you had every reason to run. You protected my mother’s legacy, you saved my life, and you showed me what it truly means to love.”

He took my left hand in his, his fingers gentle and warm.

“Will you marry me, Clara? Will you be my wife, my partner, and the sovereign queen of my life and this empire?”

Tears of boundless, radiant happiness poured down my cheeks. I dropped to my knees beside him, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest.

“Yes, Alessandro!” I cried out happily. “Yes! With all my heart, yes!”