Page 127 of Sinner's Vows

When it swings open, my heart stalls. A young woman walks into the office, in a plain dark blue pinafore, a white shirt underneath, sensible shoes with stockings, and a gold cross hanging from a thin necklace I recall as vividly as if I’ve seen it yesterday—Mom’s cross.

Our eyes meet across the short expanse of the room, and my throat tightens as she reaches for the golden cross in a gesture so familiar, with a hand that’s a carbon copy of Mom’s, it chokes me up.

This is Gabriella Scalera, and there’s no doubt in my soul she’s my sister, for she’s a soft echo of our Mom, from her dark brown eyes, the perfectly arched brows, to her regal nose, and the gentle pull of her mouth—the exact one Mom had when she reprimanded us, never scolding, only loving.

“I’m Dominic Scalera, your brother.” I hold out my hand, fingers quivering, and she slips hers in mine, soft but tense, hesitantly giving me the short, compulsory shake.

She drops her gaze as she pulls away.

“I’m ready,” she says, so softly, I need to lean in to make sure I heard right.

“You’re…ready?” I repeat, wanting to make sure that’s what she said.

“I’m ready,” she says. “To serve in the way God sees fit.”

I glance at Ariana, who hasn’t moved an inch next to me, and in a split second, all my worst sins seem to fly by in my mind, in front of this young woman—my sister—who seems to be as pure as the day she was born.

Oh, boy.Gabriella Scalera might be ready…but I’m not sure the rest of the Scaleras are ready for what her addition to the family will bring.

Epilogue - Ariana

“It’s done,” Dominic says as he hands his phone to me.

I take it from him and read the short message as he sits down. It’s from the mole. Dominic rests his hand on my leg, softly, gently, and squeezes as my hand starts to tremble at the news.

We’ve been waiting for this, but now it’s real. My breath sits trapped in my throat as my mind spins around the enormity of what I’ve done. I’ve gone rogue to the point of no return.

When we flew back from Italy with Gabriella in tow, Dominic offered to orchestrate and fund an operation to take out Massimo Eposito and Enzo Caruso, the two big shots in the DIA who were working with Pietro Garlini and Franco Fiore. The rotten apples in the core of the police force supposedly fighting organized crime in Italy.

I never hesitated to share the DIA’s insider secrets with Dominic and his team, and they didn’t just go on Pietro Garlini’s word that those two were involved but investigated first to make sure. Massimo Eposito got gunned down in Napoli a week ago, and now they’ve finally found Enzo Caruso’s body floating around a lake close to the Swiss border.

For the past weeks, I’ve been on pins and needles, waiting for the news to break. Worst of all is, we’ve realized we’ve only scratched the surface. Those two were in the DIA, but the corruption ripples into every corner in life and includes politicians, city councils, hospitals, charities. It’s become ingrained.

“You’re okay, sweetheart?” Dominic asks as he leans closer to me where I’m sitting at my favorite place in the whole house—the sunroom sectional where it overlooks the verandah and stretch of lawn that meets up with the sandy beach and the blue ocean glimmering beyond. It’s the perfect reading spot, peaceful, and in truth, a slice of heaven.

This is his place—our place: a beautiful beach house located in one of the most exclusive seaside neighborhoods south of Boston. The only downside to being here is the longer drive to the city. The Hamptons-style house is crazy big in comparison to what I’m used to, but in this neighborhood, it’s one of the smaller ones. We share a private beach with only five other families, and I’m still getting used to the luxury of it, but this is home. This is where Dominic found his peace and where I found everything I’ve always craved: love, belonging, family.

And it’s been heaven. This man…he crawled right into my heart, but nowadays, it feels as if I can almost burst with love for him. The way he cares for me…the longer I’m with him, the more my past becomes history. Not something invading my every thought like it used to, when I was still hellbent on my vendetta with Franco and Randazzo.

“It’s a start,” I say, my voice quivering. “There’s so much more to do.”

I’ve caught on over the past few months working on this project, and we have our work cut out for us. I’ve got a new team, and it makes all the difference. With Stephano and Gigi in Italy and Don Trapani’s support, Benedict’s help from here, Luca’s involvement, and Matteo’s blessing, we’ve been disrupting Randazzo’s network in Italy. It’s going to take time, but even a small win is a win, and having these two crooked cops out of the equation is huge.

“Still as ambitious as the day I met her,” Dominic says with a smile then presses a kiss to my head.

Bruno nuzzles my leg, then rests his head on my knee, staring at me with those two soulful eyes. It’s as if he feels my distressed relief, and I caress him fondly with a gentle rub behind his ear. How is it that this dog had become another anchor in the time I’ve known him?

Dominic leans in, rests his hand on mine, and together, we stroke Bruno’s fur.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

I can only nod. When I look up at him, tears in my eyes, he pulls me to his chest where I burrow into him. Without this man’s support, his love, none of this would have been possible. I’m so much stronger because of him, and this family—these brothers,Il Consiglio—are next level. They’ve got such unique skills that drilling into Randazzo’s crumbling empire seemed to be a walk in the park from where I’m standing. I know it isn’t, and they carry most of the weight of this operation, but at last someone is doing something real to stop the human trafficking.

For a long while, Dominic comforts me, just lets me be in his arms where I’ve belonged from the start. He doesn’t need to say anything, and we can just be like this, a thousand words said in a single embrace. Eventually, I look up and kiss him tenderly, and when I pull away, he cups my head and keeps me close.

He kisses me properly then, and we’re quick to engage in that erotic dance we now do so well as I open up to him without hesitating, our tongues colliding and heat already settling between my thighs. My hand strokes up his chest, and I press into him, feeling him hardening. Shit, was it only two hours ago that he made me come last? We have plans for this weekend, what with Stephano and Gigi here from Italy. It doesn’t matter. We can’t be late—again.

When he breaks off the kiss, he murmurs close to my ear. “This calls for champagne.”

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