Boston’s most lethal underworld king had made an unbelievable vow: whoever could help his four-year-old son speak again would receive half of his criminal empire—and become his wife.

The day of the wedding was crisp and clear, the Boston autumn turning the trees into blazing shades of gold and red.

I wore a custom gown of ivory silk and vintage lace. My hair was swept up, a diamond tiara—a family heirloom from Julian’s mother—resting on my head. As I looked in the mirror, I touched the cheap, plastic pink-and-purple bracelet I still wore on my wrist, hidden beneath the long lace sleeve.

Mia’s bracelet. She was with me.

Marcus escorted me down the aisle, acting as my proxy father. The cathedral was packed with hundreds of people—politicians, mob bosses, and socialites.

But I only saw Julian.

He stood at the altar in a bespoke tuxedo, looking like a dark prince. When he saw me, his usual stoic mask shattered. His eyes filled with awe.

Leo stood beside him, beaming proudly with the velvet pillow.

The ceremony was a blur of traditional vows, but when it came time for the rings, Julian took my hand.

“I made a vow to my men to give you half my empire,” Julian said softly, for only me to hear. “But I make a vow to you to give you all of my heart. I am yours, Maya. Forever.”

“I am yours, Julian,” I whispered back.