THE MAFIA KING BROKEN ROSE novel Chapter 205

Chapter 205

Five years later, I stood in front of a full–length mirror in the bridal suite of a small chapel in Tuscany, Italy, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at

1. me.

The dress was simple but elegant, off–the–shoulder ivory silk that skimmed my curves without being too revealing. My hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over one shoulder, held back by a vintage pearl comb that had belonged to Dominic’s grandmother.

The woman in the mirror looked healthy, happy, and completely at peace.

It was almost impossible to believe that five years ago, I’d been chained to a wall in a basement, convinced I was going to die.

“You look absolutely radiant,” Carmen said from behind me, adjusting the small train of my dress. She was my maid of honor, the only person from my old life who’d made the journey to Italy for the wedding.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” I said, smoothing my hands over the silk.

“Believe it, honey. You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way.”

I turned to face her, taking in her own transformation. Carmen had left the club life behind too, using the money Dominic had given her to go back to school. She was a nurse now, working with cancer patients in Chicago, and the hard edges that used to define her had softened into something warmer, more hopeful.

“Do you ever miss it?” I asked. “The old life, I mean.”

Carmen laughed, a sound I’d rarely heard back in our dancing days. “Miss being broke, scared, and desperate? Not for a single second. Though I do miss having you around to keep me grounded.”

“You could move to Italy. There are hospitals here too.”

“And be the third wheel to you and your mafia prince? I don’t think so.”

I smiled at the joke, though it carried an edge of truth. Dominic had kept his promise about leaving the criminal world behind. It hadn’t been easy–there had been debts to settle, enemies to negotiate with, loyalties to transfer.

But slowly he’d disentangled himself from the family business, passing control to his younger brother Julian while maintaining just enough influence to keep us safe.

These days, Dominic ran a legitimate security company that specialized in protecting high–profile clients.

It used many of the same skills he’d developed in his previous life, but without the constant threat of violence. We’d spent the last three years traveling the world together–Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, Rio–partly for business, partly because we both needed distance from the ghosts that haunted us in the

States.

“How are the nightmares?” Carmen asked gently.

I considered lying, putting on a brave face the way I used to. But Carmen deserved honesty.

“Better. The therapy helped a lot, and Dominic.., he’s patient with me. When I wake up screaming about being chained up, or when I can’t handle small spaces, he just holds me until it passes.”

The nightmares had been the worst part of our recovery. Both Dominic and I had been haunted by what happened in that basement, and it had taken months of couples therapy and individual counseling before we could sleep through the night without medication.

“And the other thing?” Carmen’s voice was carefully neutral. “The health scare?”

I touched my chest unconsciously, remembering the terror I’d felt when we first learned the truth. Six months after Victoria’s death, when we were finally settled in a small villa outside Florence, I’d started having severe chest pains. The local doctors ran every test imaginable, convinced my cancer had

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Chapter 205

returned.

That’s when we discovered Victoria’s final, cruelest trick.

She’d paid off my original oncologist to lie about my diagnosis.

I’d never had cancer at all. The symptoms I’d experienced, the fatigue and pain, had been caused by a slow–acting poison Victoria had been slipping into my drinks at the club for months before she kidnapped me. She’d wanted me weak and desperate, easier to manipulate when the time came.

Learning the truth had been devastating in a completely unexpected way. I’d built my entire identity around being a cancer survivor, around fighting a disease that was trying to kill me. Discovering it had all been a lie left me questioning everything about myself.

“I’m healthy,” I said to Carmen. “Completely, perfectly healthy. It took some time to accept that, to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I’m there

now.

“Good. You’ve suffered enough for several lifetimes.”

A soft knock at the door interrupted us. “Five minutes, ladies,” came the wedding coordinator’s voice.

Five minutes. In five minutes, I would walk down the aisle of a small chapel filled with people who loved us, and marry the man who’d saved my life in every way that mattered.

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