Page 170 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“It’s a relief to know he’s dead. That I don’t have to worry about my family or look over my shoulder. But…”

“But it’s still unsettling?” I say.

She nods.

“This is how these things work in our world, Em.”

“I know,” she says quietly.

I tug her a little closer. “But I don’t want to spend the night talking about a dead man.”

“Oh?”

“Seems like a waste of our time, Em.”

“A little.” She smiles at me, leaning in closer. “I love you, Saint.”

“I love you too, Em.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Even with my reputation?”

“You have to stop beating yourself up about stuff, Em. Life isn't black and white like a chessboard. There’s always going to be gray. Your mom was an escort, but she had her reasons, and it doesn't mean that you'll always be looked down upon. Even if people make comments, it's your self-worth that matters, not their opinions. And also, it’s love that matters—my love and the love of your family—because I love you, and I always will.”

She slowly smiles at me, and I can see that she understands me, who I am, and what she means to me.

And as I look at her and realize that I have her and her beautiful beaming smile back in my life, the gray clouds smothering my chest slowly start to disperse.

After so long in the gloom, so long drowning, it finally feels like I’ve managed to capture a huge lungful of happiness.

And it’s all because of Emerald…

CHAPTERFORTY-NINE

EMERALD

“Where are we going, Saint?”

But he refuses to answer me.

I groan, slumping back against the seat. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Ugh!” I slap a hand over my face. “I swear, if we end up in some weird escape room or a surprise skydiving session, I will never forgive you.”

Saint quirks an eyebrow. “Aren’t I supposed to be the grumpy one?”

“I’m pregnant, so I’m allowed some slack.” I grin at him as I settle back in my seat, but I’m unable to completely shake the tiny spark of curiosity.

Arriving at our destination, I step out of the car, my heels clicking against the pavement. And I take in the sight before me. It’s the boutique where I was arrested—the one he had to buy to get the charges dropped. My heart dips a little as I see it. It’s not something I’m proud of, and I was actually hoping to be able to forget the whole situation as quickly as possible.

The boutique's elegant glass storefront gleams under the golden evening light, and soft music drifts out from within. I turn to Saint. He’s been acting unusually secretive all day, his eyes sparkling with some sort of mischief. “Why are we here?” I tilt my head as I look up at him. “I, er, don’t need another new dress, you know.”

Saint laces his fingers through mine as he leads me toward the entrance. “Trust me, Emerald. This is something special.”

He pushes open the door, and I step inside. The fresh smell of paint lingers in the air, and I can see that the place has been entirely refitted since my last time here. The boutique is breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers drip down from the ceiling, lighting up rows of stunning dresses. The racks of silk, lace, and chiffon create a sea of luxury, and a scent of roses and vanilla fills the air. But despite the boutique still being open and the staff milling around, we’re the only ones here.

And then suddenly?—

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