Page 34 of Obsidian Devotion

I press my forehead to hers, relief flooding through me. "I love you too," I whisper. "Both of you."

My hand moves to her stomach, resting over the place where our child grows. I've killed men for business, for revenge, for the family name. But this time was different. This time I killed to protect something more precious than power or territory. Something I never thought I'd have.

Her hand covers mine, a small smile breaking through her tears. "We’re having a baby," she giggles.

I kiss her then, gently at first, then with growing intensity. Whatever lies ahead—the truth about her brother, the fallout from tonight—we'll face it together. Sofia and our child are mine to protect now, and I will burn the world to keep them safe.

12

Epilogue

TheSiciliansunwarmsmy skin as I stand on the balcony of our villa, cradling my swollen belly. Six months pregnant and I've never felt more alive, more complete.

Behind me, I hear Lorenzo's footsteps.

"You're supposed to be resting," he says, his arms encircling me, hands coming to rest protectively over mine on my stomach.

"Tell that to your daughter," I reply, tilting my head back against his chest. "She's practicing her kickboxing again."

Lorenzo chuckles, the sound reverberating through my body. "Already fighting. She's definitely a Bellanti."

I turn in his arms, studying the face I've come to know better than my own. The scar above his left eyebrow is new, a permanent reminder of the night I shot Carlos. The night I chose Lorenzo over wrongful vengeance. Truth over lies.

His eyes, though—they're softer now when they look at me. He still looks at everyone else like he wants to kill them, but with me, there's tenderness. With us, there's hope.

The nightmares still come sometimes. Carlos's face contorted in shock as my bullet found its mark. The spray of blood. The sound of his body hitting the floor. In my dreams, sometimes he gets back up. Sometimes, he reaches Lorenzo before I can stop him. Sometimes, it's my brother's face I see falling instead of Carlos's.

"What are you thinking about?" Lorenzo asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"How we got here?" I answer honestly. "How close we came to losing everything."

Lorenzo's jaw tightens momentarily, then relaxes. The past six months haven't erased the betrayal, but they've transformed it into something else. Something stronger.

"I didn’t lose the both of you,” he says simply. "That's all that matters."

I shake my head. "It's not that simple, Lorenzo. I drugged you. I lied to you. I came to destroy you."

"And stayed to save me." He presses his lips to my forehead. "I'd say that balances the scales."

Inside, voices rise in laughter. The Bellanti siblings have gathered here in Sicily for the weekend, a tradition that now includes me—the woman who infiltrated their family with vengeance in her heart, only to find herself irrevocably part of it.

"Come," Lorenzo says, pulling me gently back inside. "Matteo's threatening to tell embarrassing stories from my childhood again."

The villa's room is bathed in golden afternoon light. Matteo’s sitting on the couch. He was the last to accept me after learning the truth, but his forgiveness, when it came, was complete.

"There she is," Matteo says, raising his glass as we enter. "The woman who tamed the beast."

Isabella elegantly sprawls across a chaise, holding a wineglass, while Olivia sorts through a stack of ultrasound photos with childlike enthusiasm.

"So, Sofia," Matteo says, his tone light but his eyes serious, "has my brother been behaving himself? Or do I need to remind him that pregnant women are always right?"

I smile, settling onto the sofa next to Lorenzo. "He's learning. Slowly."

"Ah, the woes of creating a family," comes a drawling voice from the doorway. Angelo Bellanti, the youngest sibling and notorious playboy, saunters in with a bottle of expensive champagne. His dark hair is artfully tousled, his smile effortlessly charming.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow. "Don’t you think it’s time for you to create one for yourself, too?”

Angelo shakes his head dramatically. “What the fuck, man? I’m only twenty-five. Besides, only a fool will get married. No offense to you all.”

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