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The Widowed Mafia Boss’s Twin Daughters Never Slept—Until a Poor Maid Changed Everything / Chapter 9 / 9

Chapter 10 - FOREVER MORETTI

The wedding was held on a brilliant Saturday afternoon in late June, overlooking the glittering blue expanse of Lake Geneva.

There were no press cameras, no rival mob bosses, and no police sirens. Just an intimate gathering of the people who truly mattered: Toby, now a clean, thriving university student with a bright future ahead of him; Enzo and his loyal syndicate captains acting as groomsmen; and two flower girls in matching white dresses who giggled uncontrollably as they scattered rose petals down the grassy aisle.

Sarah stood under a white floral arbor, the warm summer breeze catching the edge of her cascading lace veil. As the string quartet played a soft, beautiful melody—a harmonious blend of American folk and a haunting, rediscovered Sicilian lullaby—she watched Dante walk down the aisle.

He wore a classic black tuxedo, looking every bit the powerful man he was, but his face radiated an absolute, unshakeable peace.

When he reached her, he lifted her veil, his dark eyes shining with quiet emotion. He didn't need to say a single word; the touch of his hand against her cheek said everything.

As they exchanged their vows, sealing their promises with a deep, passionate kiss beneath the summer sun, the guests erupted into applause.

Later that evening, as the stars came out and cast a silver glow across the lake, Sarah stood on the private balcony of the master suite, looking out over the water.

Soft arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and a familiar chin rested gently on her shoulder.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Moretti," Dante murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Sarah smiled, leaning back into his strong, steady embrace. She touched the silver pomegranate pendant resting safely against her collarbone—the unbroken link between her past, her present, and her future.

"I was just thinking," Sarah whispered softly, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck. "About how lucky I am that I spilled that coffee and took a job no one else wanted."

Dante smiled, a rare, breathtaking expression that belonged to her and her alone. He pressed his lips softly to hers.

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"No, my love," Dante corrected gently, pulling her flush against his heart as the distant, peaceful laughter of their daughters drifted down the hallway. "The luck was entirely mine."

And for the first time in a lifetime, in the heart of the Moretti estate, there were no nightmares left to chase away—only a happily ever after written in blood, loyalty, and unconditional love.

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