THE NAME WRITTEN IN BLUE INK

Six months later.

The snow was falling heavily outside the massive windows of the Moretti estate, blanketing the grounds in pure white.

Inside, the house was warm, smelling of pine needles and cinnamon.

It was Christmas Eve.

Emily stood in the kitchen, wearing a thick wool sweater, helping Thomas decorate a massive gingerbread house.

Thomas handed her a bowl of red icing.

“You know, Emily,” Thomas smiled, “You’re terrible at this.”

Emily laughed, wiping a smudge of flour off her cheek.

“I’m trying! The roof keeps sliding off.”

“Leave the structural engineering to the chef,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

Emily turned.

Luca was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a dark turtleneck that made him look incredibly handsome.

He walked over, grabbed a piece of candy from the counter, and popped it into his mouth.

Thomas immediately wiped his hands.

“I’ll leave you two to finish the roof,” the chef said, giving Emily a subtle, knowing wink before hurrying out the back door.

Emily shook her head, blushing slightly.

“You scared him away.”

Luca stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I didn't scare him. I just intimidate him into giving me alone time with you.”

Emily leaned back against his solid chest, feeling a deep, profound sense of contentment.

“Where is Sophie?”

“Asleep by the fireplace in the library,” Luca murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. “Waiting for Santa.”

Emily turned in his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck.

“You look exhausted,” she noted, tracing the dark circles under his eyes.

Luca sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

“The transition is almost complete. Marco officially takes over the remaining syndicate operations on January first. I spent the entire day signing over shipping routes.”

He looked into her eyes, his expression completely serious.

“It’s done, Emily. The Moretti family is legitimate.”

Emily’s breath caught.

She knew how hard he had worked over the last six months to untangle his wealth from the dark underworld of Chicago.

He had faced threats, lost money, and fought countless legal battles.

But he had done it.

He had kept his promise.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered.

Luca smiled, a slow, devastatingly genuine smile.

“I did it for Sophie. And I did it for you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat velvet box.

Emily’s heart skipped a beat.

“Luca... it’s Christmas Eve. We said no extravagant gifts.”

“It isn't extravagant,” he said softly. “It’s necessary.”

He opened the box.

Inside was a delicate, antique platinum ring, set with a stunning emerald surrounded by small diamonds.

“This was my grandmother’s,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. “She wore it for fifty years. She told me to give it to the woman who brought life back to our family.”

He took the ring out of the box.

He didn't drop to one knee.

He didn't make a grand, theatrical speech.

He just looked at her with absolute, unwavering devotion.

“I love you, Emily. You saved my daughter. You saved my soul. Marry me.”

Tears spilled over Emily’s cheeks.

She didn't hesitate.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, absolutely.”

Luca slid the ring onto her finger.

It fit perfectly.