Page 125 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

Then, he gets down on one knee.

I blink. “Marco, what are you…”

“Roisin. I want you. I want this. I want us. I want to be a family with you now, forever, and always. Will you do the honor of marrying me?”

I shake my head. “Marco, we’re already married.”

He tilts his eyes to look at me, and the sincerity I see there makes my heart feel like it’s squeezing itself.

“I didn’t give you a choice before. I am now. Marry me. Please. Because I love you and I can’t spend another day without you.”

I mean. What’s a girl to say to that?

I should let him worry, just a little. After all, poking at Marco’s carefully formed boundaries is one of my favorite hobbies.

But I can’t stop the smile that crosses my face.

Nor can I help the joy that I feel.

I kneel down to be on his level, placing my hands on either side of his face.

“I love you too, Marco De Luca.”

“So you’ll marry me,” he tilts his head.

I lean in, then breathe one word against his lips.

“Yes.”

EPILOGUE: ROISIN

ONE YEAR LATER

“We have to pack,” I murmur.

Marco’s lips trace over my shoulder. We’re supposed to go on a cruise, to Antarctica, of all places. Traveling together has been the majority of this past year, and I couldn’t be happier.

It’s been a great way for Marco to disconnect from his family. For me to figure out who I am, and what I want.

And, for us to spend time together.

“I don’t want to pack,” Marco whispers against my skin.

I gently push him off me. I’m reluctant to do so, of course. Looking at Marco in the dim candlelight of our little cottage on the Irish coast, he looks like some kind of primal god. His skin is sculpted from the most perfect marble, and I can trace freckles over his perfect chest.

He growls as I look at him. “You don’t want to pack either.”

“I don’t,” I whisper, tracing the line of his perfect abs. “But we need to.”

He sighs, kissing me before rolling off of me. “Fine,” he stretches, and I take a minute to admire his ass. “You start the laundry, and I’ll get the suitcases.”

“Rude!” I call after him as he wanders into the bathroom.

I smile though, as I roll over.

This past year has been incredible.

We’ve seen every continent. Antarctica is the last one. We’ve been the best aunt and uncle to Marco’s multitude of nieces and nephews. I’ve gotten to know Caterina and Gia and Marisol, and I’m absolutely in love with my new sisters.

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