Chapter 10 - THE LAST VINTAGEThree months later, the sun was shining brilliantly over the rolling vineyards of Napa Valley, California.
The air smelled of warm earth, ripe grapes, and eucalyptus trees swaying gently in the morning breeze. There were no armed guards standing at the gates, no iron fences, and no shadow of the Chicago underworld hanging over our heads.
The trial of the remaining Moretti leaders had concluded the week before, resulting in life sentences that effectively dismantled the last hostile faction of the syndicate. Anthony’s transition out of the criminal empire was complete; his assets had been fully liquidated into legitimate real estate, vineyards, and charitable foundations.
I sat on the wide wooden veranda of our new home, sipping a cup of coffee while watching Liam and Luna chase a golden retriever across the sprawling green lawn. Their laughter drifted up on the wind, bright and completely untouhced by fear.
Footsteps approached from behind, and a pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against a solid, familiar chest.
"You've been staring at that vineyard for an hour," Anthony murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the crook of my neck. He wore a simple linen shirt and jeans, looking less like a feared mafia boss and more like a man who finally belonged to the earth.
"I'm just making sure this isn't a dream," I whispered, leaning back into his embrace, resting my hands over his.
"It's real," he promised, his voice low and steady. "No more running. No more hiding. Just us."
I turned around in his arms, looking up into those striking blue eyes that had changed my life forever. A small smile touched my lips.
"You know, Mr. Russo," I teased lightly, raising an eyebrow. "For a dangerous criminal mastermind, you make a surprisingly good stay-at-home dad."
Anthony laughed—a rich, genuine sound that I never grew tired of hearing—and pulled me flush against him, capturing my lips in a slow, deep kiss that tasted of forever.
Down on the lawn, Liam and Luna stopped chasing the dog and looked up at us, both folding their little arms and frowning in mock annoyance at the PDA.
May you like
Anthony pulled back slightly, looking at his son with a knowing smirk, before whispering against my ear:
"Come on, Mrs. Russo. Let's go inside before our critics judge us."
