One year later.

The Vance-Moretti estate in Brooklyn was filled with warm morning light, the sweet scent of fresh coffee, and the happy noise of a growing family.

The estate had been completely transformed. The heavy, dark furnishings of the old mob era were gone, replaced by floor-to-ceiling glass windows, light oak wood, beautiful art, and open play areas for the children.

In the sunlit living room, three-year-old Stella was showing her one-year-old brother, Leo, how to stack colorful wooden blocks on the rug. Leo babble-laughed happily, knocking down the tower with a chubby fist while Stella giggled warmly.

Sadi stood near the kitchen island wearing a comfortable ivory cashmere sweater and jeans, reviewing case briefs on her tablet for the foundation’s new appellate wing.

Roman walked up behind her, wearing a grey sweater, wrapping his heavy arms securely around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You're working on Saturday again, counselor," Roman murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

"Just reviewing three emergency pro-bono applications for next week, Mr. Moretti," Sadi smiled, leaning back against his chest, enjoying his familiar, comforting warmth.

"Dante just picked up the fresh cinnamon rolls from the Starlight," Roman said softly, holding her tight. "The table is set."

Sadi set her tablet down, turning around in his arms to look up into his dark eyes, which were filled with a calm, eternal love.

"Have I told you lately that you're the best husband in New York?" Sadi murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Tell me again," Roman smiled, lowering his lips to hers in a deep, passionate kiss that made the rest of the world fade away.