Luca Moretti knew something was wrong before he even opened the door.

Four months passed.

The transition was not bloodless, but it was swift. With Vance dead and the Romanos effectively exiled, Luca Moretti moved with ruthless corporate precision to dismantle the underground operations of his empire.

He didn't just win the war; he changed the game.

Moretti Holdings restructured its entire logistics division, turning over all high-risk maritime contracts to fully legitimate federal trade routes. The illicit revenues were liquidated and funneled into clean development trusts across New York and New Jersey.

And leading the forensic audit of the entire conglomerate, operating out of a corner office on the fiftieth floor of the Moretti Tower in Manhattan, was Emma Carter.

She sat behind an expansive walnut desk overlooking Central Park, wearing a tailored cream silk blouse and dark trousers. Her hair was pinned in an elegant twist, her posture commanding and relaxed.

A soft knock came at her office door.

Leo walked in, carrying a leather-bound folio. He grinned. “Morning, Director Carter.”

Emma rolled her eyes playfully. “Stop calling me that, Leo. It makes me sound sixty.”

“Hey, when you save the boss seventy million dollars in offshore compliance fees, you get the title,” Leo laughed, setting the folio on her desk. “The Bayonne dock transfer is officially finalized. Every employee from your brother’s old logistics union has been reinstated with full back pay and pensions.”

Emma touched the leather folder, her fingers grazing the embossed Moretti crest. Her brother’s old friends—men who had been blacklisted by Vance for ten years—were finally safe, their livelihoods secured.

“Thank you, Leo,” she said softly.

“Don't thank me,” Leo said, turning toward the door with a knowing smile. “Thank the guy who signed the executive order.”

The door opened wider, and Luca stepped inside.

He wore a navy three-piece suit that fit his broad frame perfectly. The scars from the mountain house explosion were faint now—a small white line above his brow that only added to his dangerous, quiet magnetism.

Leo slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Luca walked around Emma’s desk. Without a word, he placed his hands on the arms of her leather chair, leaned down, and captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that made her head spin.

Emma smiled against his mouth, running her hands up his broad chest. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Moretti.”

“You’ve been working since six,” Luca murmured, kissing the corner of her jaw. “Mrs. Gable called me. She said you skipped breakfast.”

“I had an audit to finish,” Emma protested, laughing softly as she tilted her head back to give him better access. “Some of us actually work for a living.”

“You’re coming with me,” Luca said, taking her hand and pulling her up from the chair.

“Where?”