The mechanical hum of the cathedral’s projection system vibrated through the stone floor like a low, ominous pulse.

Six months later.

The sun was setting over the coastal hills of Amalfi, Italy, casting golden light across the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

On the grand terrace of the newly restored DeLuca Cliffside Villa—a property I had converted into a private retreat for the company’s top-performing employees and charitable foundations—a grand celebration was in full swing.

Music from a live jazz quartet drifted through the warm evening air. Executives, dock workers, maritime engineers, and international partners chatted happily over local wines and fresh seafood.

I stood near the stone balustrade, looking out at the magnificent bay. I wore a stunning emerald green gown—not like the cheap, arrogant display Jessica had worn to the funeral, but a masterpiece of silk and hand-embroidered gold thread that radiated power, elegance, and beauty.

"You look breathtaking, Chairman," a warm voice said behind me.

I turned to see Marcus Vance stepping onto the terrace. He had traded his tactical armor for a perfectly tailored tuxedo, his dark eyes filled with a gentle, sincere warmth that I had come to appreciate deeply over the past year.

"Marcus," I smiled, raising my glass of champagne. "Are you off duty tonight?"

"Technically, my team is monitoring the perimeter," Marcus chuckled, stepping up beside me to look out at the ocean. "But practically... I came to make sure you were enjoying your own victory."

"I am," I said softly, taking a sip of champagne. "For the first time in my life, I don't feel like I'm waiting for the floor to fall out from beneath me."

"You built a floor of solid iron, Elena," Marcus said, turning to look at me, his tone shifting into something deeper, more personal. "What you did with this company... what you did for the people who work for you... Victor would be immensely proud."

"And what about you, Marcus?" I asked, looking into his eyes. "Are you proud?"

Marcus stepped closer, his hand coming up to gently touch the side of my face—a soft, respectful gesture that made my heart leap in a way it hadn't in years.

"I have spent my whole life protecting powerful people," Marcus murmured softly. "But protecting you... working beside you... has been the greatest honor of my life."

I smiled, laying my hand over his. The cold, dark shadows of my past—the humiliation at the funeral, the betrayal of my best friend, the abuse of my ex-husband—seemed a million miles away, completely erased by the warmth of the man standing beside me.