Two years later, the third floor of the Russo mansion was no longer forbidden.

Not entirely.

Rosa had rewritten the household rules.

Rule one remained unchanged.

Don't bother Dante during meetings.

Rule two remained mostly unchanged.

Household staff should respect private areas.

Rule three now read:

If Dr. Gallagher says Mr. Russo needs rest, Mr. Russo needs rest.

Sadie had framed it.

She wasn't technically a doctor, but Rosa claimed “Nurse Gallagher” didn't sound sufficiently authoritative.

On the afternoon Sadie completed her final nursing qualification, she returned to the mansion and found the entire household gathered in the foyer.

Marco applauded.

Vincent handed her champagne.

Rosa hugged her.

Sadie looked around.

“Where's Dante?”

Everyone became suspiciously quiet.

Rosa pointed upstairs.

“Third floor.”

Sadie laughed.

“Of course.”

She climbed the familiar staircase.

Two years earlier, she'd climbed it terrified, broke, and convinced she was about to lose her job.

Now she pushed open Dante's study without knocking.

He stood by the fireplace wearing an immaculate black tailored suit over an open-collar shirt, dark tattoos visible along his neck and hands.

Sadie looked around.

“No blood?”

“Not today.”

“No gun?”

“In the safe.”

“Progress.”

“I'm trying.”

He held something behind his back.

Sadie narrowed her eyes.

“What are you hiding?”

“Something dangerous.”

“Dante.”

He brought out a small velvet box.

Sadie stopped.

“Oh.”

“That's disappointing.”

“What?”

“I prepared an entire speech.”

“You prepared a speech?”

“Three pages.”

She laughed.

“You hate speeches.”

“Exactly.”

He opened the box.

Inside was a simple diamond ring.

Sadie's expression softened.

Dante didn't kneel immediately.

Instead, he looked at her seriously.

“Two years ago, you entered this room because you heard someone who needed help.”

Sadie remained silent.

“You didn't know who I really was. You didn't know whether saving me would help you or destroy your life.”

He paused.

“You came anyway.”

Sadie's eyes became wet.

Dante continued.

“Everyone around me spent years teaching me that trust was weakness.”

He glanced toward the doorway.

“You taught me they were wrong.”

Then he knelt.

Sadie smiled through tears.

“Dante Russo, are you nervous?”

“Extremely.”

“Good.”

He laughed.

“Sadie Gallagher, will you marry me?”

She let him wait exactly three seconds.

It was revenge for the gun.

“Yes.”

Dante exhaled.

Then Sadie added, “On conditions.”

He closed his eyes.

“Of course.”

“No interfering with my career.”

“Agreed.”

“No mysterious envelopes of money.”

“Fine.”

“No pointing guns at domestic staff.”

“That feels unnecessarily specific.”

“Dante.”

“Agreed.”

“And Rosa gets to keep rule three.”

He stood.

“Absolutely not.”

Sadie laughed.

He slipped the ring onto her finger.

Downstairs, applause suddenly erupted.

Sadie looked toward the door.

“They're listening?”

“Apparently.”

Marco shouted from below.

“WE HEARD EVERYTHING!”

Dante walked toward the staircase.

“Marco!”

Footsteps scattered downstairs.

Sadie caught Dante's hand.

“Leave them alone.”

“They're spying.”

“In your defense, this house has terrible soundproofing.”

He looked at her.

“You're taking their side already?”

“I'm management now.”

“You're terrifying.”

“You've mentioned that.”

Dante wrapped an arm around her waist.

Sadie glanced around the study.

The shattered lamp was gone.

The bloodstained rug had been replaced.

But one thing remained.

On Dante's bookshelf stood the old photograph of Patrick Gallagher.

Beside it was another photograph.

Sadie graduating.

Her father had once entered Dante Russo's world and tried to do the right thing.

Years later, his daughter had done exactly the same.

She had entered the one room everyone told her to fear.

She had found a wounded man behind the legend.

And instead of running, she had stayed.

Dante followed her gaze toward Patrick's photograph.

“I think he'd be proud of you.”

Sadie smiled.

“I think he'd tell me I have terrible taste in men.”

Dante looked offended.

“Patrick liked me.”

“He knew you before the tattoos.”

“I had tattoos.”

“Not that many.”

Dante laughed.

Sadie took his hand.

“Come downstairs.”

“You realize everyone's going to make a spectacle of this.”

“Probably.”

“I hate spectacles.”

“I know.”

They reached the staircase.

Dante stopped.

“Sadie?”

She turned.

“What?”

His expression softened.

“I'm glad you broke the rule.”

Sadie squeezed his hand.

“So am I.”

Together, they walked downstairs.

For years, everyone in the Russo mansion had feared rule three.

In the end, breaking it hadn't cost Sadie Gallagher her life.

It had given her back the future she'd lost, cleared her father's name, exposed the man who had trapped her in a false debt—and forced Chicago's most feared mafia boss to discover that there was one thing even Dante Russo couldn't command.

Someone to trust him.

And for the first time in a very long time, the third-floor door remained wide open.