Two days before my wedding, my father informed me that I was being handed over to one of New York’s most feared crime families—and refusing would cost me everything. But the real shock came on my wedding night, when the man who had already decided I was a spoiled, reckless party girl discovered the one truth nobody knew: I had never been touched.

Six months later.

Spring had arrived in New York, painting Central Park in brilliant shades of green and cherry blossom pink.

The Valenti crime family, deprived of their internal informant and crushed by federal indictments stemming from the financial records I had helped decrypt, had officially surrendered their Manhattan territorial claims. A permanent peace treaty had been established under Niko’s strict terms.

The Santoro enterprise had fully transitioned into a legal international shipping and real estate conglomerate, with Niko serving as Chief Executive Officer and me serving as Senior Corporate Counsel following my early graduation from Columbia Law School.

On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Niko and I stood on the deck of our new private yacht, floating quietly in the waters off Sag Harbor, Long Island.

I wore a white linen sundress, my dark hair blowing gently in the ocean breeze.

Niko stepped up behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"What are you thinking about, Mrs. Santoro?" Niko whispered, his lips brushing against my cheek.

"I was thinking about the night we met," I smiled, leaning back against his broad chest. "When you thought I was a spoiled party girl, and I thought you were a cold-blooded monster."

Niko let out a low, genuine laugh—a sound that still brought a deep warmth to my heart every time I heard it.

"I was a fool," Niko admitted softly, turning me around in his arms so he could look down into my eyes. "I thought I was buying a political pawn. I had no idea I was marrying the woman who would save my life and take over my empire."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

He opened it to reveal a magnificent new ring—a flawless five-carat emerald-cut diamond set in platinum, sparkling brilliantly under the afternoon sun.

"What is this, Niko?" I asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"Our wedding ring was born out of a contract, Evelyn," Niko said, his gray eyes shining with pure, unadulterated love. "This one is born out of my choice. Will you stay my wife, my partner, and my equal... forever?"