Chapter 7 - Rebuilding the Ashes
Forty-eight hours later.
Willow opened her eyes to the soft scent of lavender and clean cotton.
She was lying in the master suite of the estate—Josiah’s personal bedroom—wrapped in silk sheets. Her head was neatly bandaged, and an IV line was slowly dripping pain medication into her arm.
Sitting in the leather armchair beside the bed, asleep with his head resting on the edge of her mattress, was Josiah.
He looked exhausted. His dark hair was messy, his jaw covered in rough stubble, and his hand was firmly holding hers, even in his sleep, as if terrified she would vanish if he let go.
Sensing her movement, Josiah’s eyes snapped open instantly.
“Willow?” he breathed, leaning forward immediately, his thumb smoothing over her knuckles. “How do you feel? Do you need the doctor? I have a team downstairs—”
“I’m okay,” Willow smiled weakly, her voice raspy. “Just a headache.”
Josiah brought her hand to his lips, pressing a slow, reverent kiss against her skin, holding it there for a long time.
“The Moretti syndicate is gone,” Josiah whispered against her fingers, his dark eyes filled with absolute, unwavering devotion. “I spent the last two days ensuring that no one in this country will ever dare threaten this house again. It’s over, Willow. Entirely over.”
“Where is Mia?” she asked softly.
As if on cue, the bedroom door opened a crack.
Mia peeked in, holding a tray with a bowl of warm soup and a drawing of three people—a man, a little girl, and a woman with brown hair holding hands under a bright yellow sun.
“Willow!” Mia squeaked, running to the side of the bed, carefully setting the tray down before gently hugging Willow’s waist. “You’re awake! I made you soup! Well, the chef made it, but I picked the spoon!”
Willow laughed softly, tears of happiness filling her eyes as she stroked Mia’s hair. “Thank you, little bird. It looks delicious.”
Mia looked up at her father, then at Willow, her face very serious. “Willow... are you going to stay here forever now? You’re not going back to the restaurant, right?”
Willow looked at Josiah.
The powerful mafia boss was looking at her with a raw, desperate hope in his eyes—a man who owned an empire, kneeling at the feet of the woman who had brought him back to life.
Josiah reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He didn't open it yet. He held it in his palm, looking into Willow’s eyes.
“I paid off your mother’s medical debts two weeks ago, Willow,” Josiah revealed softly. “I cleared your name, bought out your lease, and put five million dollars into a private trust in your name. You are a free woman. You don't owe anyone anything.”
Willow blinked in surprise. “Josiah...”
“You can leave today if you want,” Josiah continued, his voice thick with emotion. “You can take the money and build whatever life you want. But if you stay...” He opened the box, revealing a breathtaking diamond ring that caught the sunlight like a star. “If you stay, you become my wife. You become Mia’s mother. You become the queen of everything I own.”
Mia gasped, clapping her hands together. “Say yes! Say yes, Willow!”
Willow looked at the ring, then at the little girl who had stolen her heart, and finally at the terrifying, beautiful man who loved her with a fierce, protective devotion.
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“I don't care about the money, Josiah,” Willow whispered, tears streaming down her smiling cheeks. “I stayed because I love you. I love you both.”
Josiah let out a breathless laugh, sliding the ring onto her finger before pulling her into his arms, kissing her with a deep, passionate fire that promised a lifetime of protection, warmth, and love.
