It will only take you less than 30 seconds…

Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

Which was the part you liked most in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything that you enjoyed.

Is there one (or more) character(s) in this book that you would like to read more about in a sequel?

It could be any character from the book. You could say no if there isn't any.

What do you think of the bonus content of this book? *

• I read all the bonus content because I wanted more of the story.
• I read the prologue, but not Tommaso's POV scene.
• I read Tommaso's POV, but not the prologue scene.
• I skipped the bonus content initially, but plan to go back and read it after finishing the main story.
• I skipped the bonus content because the interruptions were annoying and/or off putting.

Do you like the bodyguard lover trope in dark mafia romance? *

• I love it!
• I hate it!
• I don't have an opinion about it.

Which kind of book boyfriend do you prefer? *

• The player/bad-boy (he’s trouble, and the girl knows it).
• The possessive one (VERY protective and rages upon anyone who threatens to touch or hurt his love).
• The anti-hero (the villainous sort of love interest, the one with a darker agenda).
• The best friend boyfriend (not only a love interest for the character, but is also a very close friend).
• The Prince Charming (who would do anything to protect the one he loves).
• The hero (very loyal and brave, and strong. He’s willing to do what’s right for the one he loves).
• The sweet and romantic (sweet, thoughtful and very understanding).
• The funny one (very charming, albeit a bit silly at times, due to his very charming and happy demeanor).

Tell me more about the book boyfriend of your dreams ❤️

I would love to know what kind of book boyfriend is your favorite one to read about ❤️

Submit

Extended Epilogue

Ella

Three months later

Tommaso continues to drive the Audi past single-story, well-kept houses where kids are playing basketball in their yards or cycle and are running around in the street.

He told me that he had gotten a new house and wanted us to visit it before we went to our dinner date at Spago. I am excited since every one of his houses is a masterpiece in itself. It all looks wealthy and wholesome, with the houses nestling among the trees.

A few minutes later, he turns sharply left, and we’re confronted by two ornate white metal gates set in a six-foot-high sandstone wall. He presses a button on his door handle, and the electric window hums quietly down into the doorframe.

He punches a number into the keypad, and the gates swing open in welcome. He glances at me, and his expression has changed. He looks uncertain, even nervous.

“What is it?” I ask, and I can’t mask the concern in my voice.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it,” he says quietly and eases the Audi through the gates. Why does that matter? We head up a tree-lined lane just wide enough for two cars.

On one side, the trees ring a densely wooded area, and on the other, there’s a vast area of grassland where a once-cultivated field has been left fallow.

Grass and wildflowers have reclaimed it, creating a rural idyll. A meadow where the late evening breeze softly ripples through the green blades and the evening sun gilds the wildflowers. It’s lovely, utterly tranquil, and suddenly I imagine myself lying in the grass and gazing up at a clear blue summer sky.

Maybe it does matter. The thought is exciting, yet makes me feel homesick for some strange reason. How odd. The lane curves around and opens into a sweeping driveway in front of an impressive Mediterranean-style house of soft pink sandstone. It’s grand.

All the lights are on, each window brightly illuminated in the dusk. There’s a smart black BMW parked in front of the four-car garage, but Tommaso pulls up outside the grand doorway.

I wonder who must have lived here. Tommaso glances anxiously at me as he switches off the car engine.

“Will you keep an open mind?” he asks. I frown.

“Tommaso, I’ve had an open mind since the day I met you.”

He smiles ironically and nods. “Fair point well made, Miss Hart. Let’s go.” We find ourselves in a large entrance hall.

The walls are a faded primrose yellow with scuff marks where pictures must once have hung. All that remains are the old-fashioned crystal light fixtures. The floors are dull hardwood. There are closed doors on either side of us, but Tommaso gives me no time to observe.

“Come,” he says, and taking my hand, he leads me through the archway in front of us into a larger inner lobby.

It’s dominated by a curved, sweeping staircase with an intricate iron railing, but still he doesn’t stop. He takes me through to the main living area, which is empty save for a large faded rug—the biggest rug I have ever seen. Oh, and there are four crystal chandeliers.

But Tommaso’s intention is now clear as we head across the room and outside, through open French doors to a large stone terrace. Below us, there’s half a football field of manicured lawn, but beyond that is the view. Wow.

The panoramic, uninterrupted scene is breathtaking, staggering even. It’s twilight. In the distance lies the Hollywood sign, and farther still on this crystal-clear evening, the setting sun sinks slowly, glowing blood and flame orange, beyond Olympic Park.

Vermilion hues bleed into the blue sky, with opals and aquamarines, and meld with the darker purples of the scant wispy clouds and the land beyond. It is nature at its best, a visual symphony orchestrated in the sky and reflected in the deep, still waters of the sound. I am lost staring, trying to absorb such beauty.

I realize I’m holding my breath in awe while Tommaso still holds my hand. As I reluctantly turn my eyes away from the view, he’s gazing anxiously at me.

“You brought me here to admire the view?” I whisper. He nods, his expression serious.

“It’s staggering. Thank you.” I say, letting my eyes feast on it once more. He releases my hand.

“How would you like to look at it for the rest of your life, maybe?” he breathes. What? I whip my face back to his, startled blue eyes to pensive gray. My mouth drops open, and I gape at him blankly.

“I want to buy it, demolish it, and build a new house, for us maybe…” he falters, and his eyes glow, translucent with his hopes and dreams. What is he trying to do?

***

We are in front of the restaurant door, and a wave of memories floods over me. I’m back at the place where we both could have died. It’s a test of resilience for the two of us, but there’s something different in the air tonight.

The atmosphere is warmer, more comforting. As Tommaso holds the door open, I can’t help but appreciate the effort he’s put into choosing a spot where we can rewrite the narrative of this place. We settle at a cozy table near the window, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight.

Tommaso, ever the gentleman, pulls out the chair for me, and we sit, menus in hand. But my mind is split between the choices on the menu and the lingering thoughts of our last visit. It all comes rushing to me suddenly and I shudder. Tommaso notices the distant look in my eyes and reaches across the table, his hand covering mine.

“Are you alright?” His eyes search mine for any signs of discomfort.

I force a smile, nodding. “I’m fine. Just a little reminded of our last time here, you know?”

He squeezes my hand reassuringly. “It’s all right. Tonight is about making new memories, not dwelling on the past.” I smile at him, and we turn our attention to the menu. The evening unfolds with delightful conversation, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.

The restaurant transforms into a haven of joy, erasing the shadows of what had happened here. I feel at ease. As we enjoy our dinner, Tommaso starts steering the conversation somewhere else, asking questions about my thoughts on marriage. I decide to play along, be a little elusive, pretending not to know what he means.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” he asks, his eyes locking with mine.

I chuckle nervously, swirling the wine in my glass. “It’s is a big step. It’s not something I’ve given a lot of thought to, to be honest. I believe in taking things one step at a time.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied with my response. “Fair enough. But hypothetically, if you had to get married, have you ever considered who you might marry? If I were to lose our bet, I mean.” What? I try not to choke on my salad.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s a tricky one. I mean, there are so many possibilities. I guess it would depend on a lot of factors.”

Tommaso keeps a straight face. “Factors like what?” Is he really that serious?

“Compatibility, respect, a good sense of humor, perhaps,” I list, savoring the moment of keeping him guessing.

He leans back, studying me with a twinkle in his eye. “Interesting. And what if you had to choose someone right now, at this very moment?”

I let out a mock sigh, my expression dreamy. “Oh, that’s a tough question. I’d need time to think about it.” I start looking at other men on the tables surrounding us.

He laughs, but it’s not real. It’s forced. “Alright.” The evening continues and I lose track of time. Then, Tommaso excuses himself briefly, leaving me anxious.

Where is he going now? Is everything alright? When he returns, he holds a small box in his hand and keeps his eyes on me. My eyes widen with shock as he kneels down beside me, opening the box to reveal a beautiful rubicund diamond ring.

“Ella,” he begins, his voice filled with sincerity and hope, “I tried to suppress my emotions, but I can’t. I love you with all my heart… will you be my wife? Have I won the bet? Have I won your heart?”

Time seems to stand still. I feel like my breath is stuck in my throat. I’m caught off guard, looking into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. But all I find is pure love and loyalty.

This is it. This is what I was waiting for. My heart is about to burst with joy.

“Yes, YES! I will!” I cry.

He slides the ring onto my finger and I can’t help but sob. The whole restaurant seems to hold its breath. Tommaso rises, and our lips meet in a tender kiss. I cannot believe this is happening.

“You really did it, didn’t you?” I manage to say through the happy tears, my voice a mix of disbelief and joy. His eyes sparkle, mirroring the glint of the ring on my finger.

He grins, a hint of nervousness beneath the confident exterior. “I wanted it to be special.”

I chuckle, wiping away a tear. “You made me wait three damn months for this!”

He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Well, good things take time.” He wipes my tears away gently.

A laugh escapes me, a mixture of happiness and playful mock. “Three months. I knew the answer was ‘yes’ since day one.”

His grin widens. “So, you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Oh, I’m furious,” I tease, a playful glint in my eye. “You kept me waiting, made me wonder if you’d ever pop the question.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against mine. “But you knew, didn’t you?”

A triumphant smile stretches across my face. “Maybe. You are not that good at keeping your feelings a secret, I guess.” We laugh.

Tommaso reaches for my hand, the ring catching the golden lighting. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I mockingly pout. “Surprise? You’re lucky I didn’t start a countdown.”

He kisses my hand. “You’re worth the wait.”

I shake my head in mock disapproval. “So are you, Don Tommaso.”

He chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “I’m humbled.”

The waiter approaches, seemingly oblivious to the emotional rollercoaster at our table. “Dessert. Please, enjoy”

I look at Tommaso, my heart full. “You really got me good, you know that?”

He nods, a genuine happiness in his eyes. “We now have a good story to tell our kids.” He looks up, knowing that I am blushing.

Mum was right, everything does fall into place no matter what. And so was Tommaso, it all goes fine in the end. Only I was wrong. All along. Wrong to think that people like him are monsters. That people like him are not made to fall in love. Wrong to think that there is no justice, no hope, no good.

As we hug, surrounded by the warm glow of congratulatory smiles and clinking glasses, I can’t help but feel grateful for the twists of fate that brought me here. It was worth it.

And I didn’t lose my bet.

I won.

I won Tommaso in the end.