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The security cameras are nearly invisible, but I know they're there. My men are positioned outside, alert and professional. The garage doors are reinforced steel, and there are more defensive measures than anyone would expect in an auto shop. Because this isn't just Cindy's workspace; it's an extension of our home. I know she’ll be spending a lot of time here with the kids. I protect what's mine.

"The engine's going to need a complete rebuild," Cindy says, studying the 'Cuda while Sofia nurses. "New pistons, probably new heads, definitely new exhaust. It's going to take months."

"We have time," I tell her.

"It's going to be expensive."

"Money's not an issue."

“It’s going to take a lot of time and?—”

"Cindy." I interrupt her listing of potential problems with a smile. "I didn't buy you a project car so you could talk yourself out of enjoying it."

She grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just excited. It's been so long since I had a real project."

Leo has climbed into the driver's seat, making engine noises and pretending to drive. "Vroom! Look out, bad guys, here comes Leo Markovic!"

"Careful in there," Cindy calls. "Some of those edges might be sharp."

I walk over to help him out of the car, but not before ruffling his hair. "What do you think, champ? Think we can make this thing run like Dom's?"

"Better than Dom's," he says with absolute confidence.

My phone buzzes with a text from Viktor about a meeting with the Toretto family this afternoon. It’s a reminder that the world outside these walls continues to demand my attention.

"So," I say, settling into a chair across from where Cindy is nursing Sofia. "Where do we start?"

"First, we need to do a complete assessment," she says, slipping into teacher mode. "Document everything that needs work, prioritize the most critical issues, and create a timeline and budget."

I nod.

“Know your enemy, plan your attack, execute with precision," she says, repeating something I told her a while back.

Leo perks up from where he's examining the interior. "Are we going to war with the car?"

"We're going to war with time and rust and neglect," Cindy tells him. "And we're going to win."

33

CINDY

Ismooth my hands over the silk of my wedding dress, a creation that took three fittings to get perfect after Sofia's birth. I debated the big gown. It felt like too much for an orphan girl. But then I thought about my daughter.

I wanted her to grow up looking at pictures of her mama on her wedding day, looking beautiful and radiant. I wanted the gown to be over the top because I hoped that when Sofia got married, she would get to have her own fairytale.

And then there was Leo. He was adamant that a princess needed a big dress. And Luka often called me princess. Or queen. In Leo’s mind, I was the princess Luka rescued from the big, bad dragon.

In many ways, I was.

So here I am in a princess gown worthy of the fairy tale Luka somehow managed to give me despite all the darkness we've weathered together.

"Stop fidgeting," Mara says from behind me, putting the finishing touches on my veil. "You look absolutely radiant."

Mara Volkov became my unexpected friend over the past few months—the wife of Dimitri Andropov's lieutenant and one of the few women in this world who truly understands the complexities of loving a dangerous man. She's also the closest thing I have to a sister now, which makes her the perfect choice for matron of honor.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," I whisper, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman looking back at me seems like someone from a dream. She’s a beautiful Russian woman. She’s forty but looks twenty if a day. She has glowing skin with her platinum blonde hair swept up in an elegant chignon. Her pale pink dress is, of course, designer.

Luka spared no expense. With the success of the last few months, money will never be a problem for our family. Or Leo’s family. Or Leo’s children.