I Married the Mafia Boss Six Women Ran From—Then I Discovered Why They Really Left

I found Lorenzo in the kitchen.

Of course.

The most feared man in Chicago was standing beside the island eating one of my bakery's chocolate cookies like he had not spent the week dismantling a criminal empire.

"The ring box is empty," I said.

"Yes."

"Traditionally, that reduces the effectiveness of a proposal."

"I'm not proposing."

That hurt more than I expected.

He saw it.

"Not yet," he added.

I folded my arms. "You have ten seconds before I throw a cookie at you."

He put his down.

"Six women were never given a real choice. My mother wasn't given one. Bianca wasn't. You spent years with a man who tried to make your choices smaller. I won't put a diamond in front of you while this house, this name, and everything around me is still a storm."

My anger disappeared.

"Then what is the box for?"

"To remind you that I bought a ring."

I blinked. "That's obnoxious."

"Rosa agreed. She helped."

"Of course she did."

He took the brass bedroom key from his pocket and set it on the counter between us.

"The ninety days are over. Your bakery is yours. Your life is yours. If you walk out tonight, nobody follows. Nobody punishes you. Nobody says you failed."

My throat tightened.

"And if I stay?"

For the first time since I met him, Lorenzo looked genuinely afraid.

"Then I spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it."

I stepped closer.

"One condition."

"Name it."

"No more deciding what's safe for me without asking me."

"Agreed."

"And you admit you smiled the day I arrived."

His eyes narrowed. "Unreasonable."

"Deal breaker."