At 8:17 PM, the massive brass doors of the Aster House grand ballroom swung open. The hum of high-society chatter, discreet corporate deal-making, and heavy silver clinking against porcelain died instantly.

Forty-eight hours later.

The forty-first floor of Vale Tower was dead quiet.

Grant Mercer and Julian Moretti were officially "retired" from New York business—transferred permanently to a secure facility in South America where they would spend the rest of their lives under guard, unable to touch a single dollar of Vale money.

The sun was setting over Lower Manhattan, casting a warm golden glow across Dominic’s corner office.

Evelyn sat on the soft leather sofa in the middle of the room, wearing a comfortable cashmere sweater and black trousers. Her lip was slightly bruised, but her eyes were bright and rested.

Dominic walked over carrying two cups of hot chamomile tea. He handed one to her and sat down beside her, pulling a thick leather bound binder from under his arm.

"What's this?" Evelyn asked, setting her tea down.

"Your new employment contract," Dominic said smoothly.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, a familiar smirk returning to her lips. "I thought you were buying me out of my secretary desk?"

"I am," Dominic said, opening the folder to the first page. "As of today, you are no longer my secretary. You are the Chief Financial Officer and Vice President of Vale Strategic Holdings."

Evelyn stared at the document. "Dominic... the board will never approve a former secretary—"

"The board approved it twenty minutes ago," Dominic interrupted, his dark eyes fixed on hers with absolute adoration. "Because I told them if they didn't, my CFO would expose every single tax loophole they've been using since 2018."

Evelyn let out a genuine, breathless laugh—a sound that filled the entire room with warmth. "You used my accounting skills as a threat?"

"I used your brilliance," Dominic corrected softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box, setting it on top of the contract.

Evelyn froze, her breath catching in her throat.

"And," Dominic added, his voice dropping into a tender, nervous whisper, "there’s a second contract I'd like you to consider."

He opened the velvet box. Inside rested a magnificent pear-cut emerald ring surrounded by platinum diamonds—matching the dress she had worn to Aster House.

"Dominic..." Evelyn whispered, tears springing to her gray eyes.

"Four years ago, you walked into my office in a gray cardigan," Dominic said softly, taking her hand into his. "You were invisible to the world, but you saved my life and my family every single day without asking for credit. I don't ever want you to hide again, Evelyn. I want you by my side. As my partner. As my wife."

Evelyn looked at the ring, then looked into the eyes of the cold mob boss who had turned into a gentle protector just for her.

"On one condition," Evelyn said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Dominic smiled nervously. "Name it."

"I still get to bring you black coffee at 8:10 AM," she said softly.