Waitress Shielded a Little Girl From Gunfire — Then Woke Up Married to a Mafia Boss

By 5:00 a.m., the police—those on the Volkov payroll—had cleared the estate, removing the bodies and securing the perimeter.

Julian, realizing his strike team had failed and that Dominic was hunting him down, tried to flee the city on a private yacht anchored at the municipal marina.

He didn't make it out of the harbor.

Dominic returned just as the sun was breaking over the horizon, washing the estate in pale, golden light. He walked into the master suite where Emma was sitting on the edge of the bed, her tactical vest discarded, her hands still slightly trembling.

Dominic walked over, knelt down in front of her, and took her cold hands in his warm palms.

“It’s over,” Dominic said quietly. “Julian’s boat was intercepted off the coast. He’s... no longer a threat.”

Emma looked down into his exhausted, beautiful eyes. “Did you...?”

“He’s gone, Emma,” Dominic interrupted softly, his thumb tracing her knuckles. “The blood feud is finished. No one will ever threaten you or Sophia again. I give you my word.”

Emma let out a long, shuddering breath, the tension of the night finally draining out of her body. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Dominic’s neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

Dominic wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair, holding her as if she were the only real thing left in a world made of smoke and violence.