Chapter 10 - Crown of the Dragon
Six months later, the North End looked entirely different through my eyes.
The historic brick streets, the Italian bakeries, and the bustling docks were no longer a landscape of fear and paranoia. They were home.
The transition hadn't been easy. I still occasionally caught myself checking the locks twice, still expecting the other shoe to drop, still remembering the quiet, cramped apartment in Chicago where my mother had spent her final years hiding from a world she couldn't escape. But every time the ghosts of the past threatened to drag me back down, I looked around the sprawling Beacon Hill estate—or down at little Leo, who was now walking on chubby toddler legs and calling me "A-na" with a bright, gummy smile—and felt the solid, unshakeable foundation of the Rosselli family holding me up.
Today, Aurelia was closed to the public for a private celebration.
The entire restaurant glowed beneath warm amber lights, filled not with terrified diners whispering about mob bosses, but with family, trusted allies, and friends who formed the inner circle of the new era of the Rosselli empire.
At the center of the main table sat baby Leo, laughing as he smeared chocolate cake across his white shirt while Salvatore gamely tried to wipe his face with a linen napkin.
I stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sun set over the Boston Harbor, painting the water in shades of gold and crimson. The silver locket my mother had given me still rested against my collarbone, but it no longer felt like a heavy anchor of sorrow. It felt like a bridge between the girl I used to be and the woman I had become.
Footsteps approached softly behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Dante stepped up beside me, handing me a crystal flute of sparkling cider. He wore a tailored dark suit, the collar slightly open, revealing the intricate black dragon tattoo curling up his neck—no longer a warning of danger, but a crest of absolute, unbreakable protection.
"You're quiet today," Dante noted, his deep, resonant voice wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
"Just thinking," I said, leaning my shoulder gently against his arm as we watched Leo babbling happily at the table. "About everything. About Chicago. About Mom. About how crazy it is that six months ago, I was just a stressed-out waitress carrying plates across this exact room."
Dante turned, resting his shoulder against the window frame, looking down at me with those piercing hazel-gold eyes softened by an expression he reserved for no one else in the world.
"You were never just a waitress, Alina," Dante said quietly, his hand reaching out to wrap around mine, his fingers intertwining with mine with absolute certainty. "You were a Rosselli from the day you were born. You just had to fight your way back home."
I smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that reached my eyes, banishing the last lingering shadows of the past.
"And now?" I asked softly, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. "What am I now?"
Dante raised his glass in a silent toast, his lips curving into a slow, devastatingly handsome smile that made my heart skip a beat.
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"Now," Dante murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of my head as the jazz band struck up a gentle, joyful melody, "you wear the crown of the dragon. And no one will ever touch our family again."
Outside, the lights of Boston twinkled across the harbor, bright, eternal, and entirely ours.
