The tinted windows of the armored SUV turned Providence into a passing ghost of dark brick, wet asphalt, and slate-gray sky.

A year later.

The morning sun broke over the horizon of Narragansett, casting a warm golden light across the blue waters of the ocean.

On the private beach below the estate, the gentle waves lapped against the soft sand.

I stood near the water's edge, wearing a simple white linen dress, the sea breeze whipping my hair around my face.

Diego walked down the stone stairs from the terrace, carrying our four-month-old daughter, Elena, wrapped in a soft pink cashmere blanket.

Elena had her father’s dark hair and my wide, curious blue eyes.

Diego walked up beside me, his long shadow shielding us from the bright morning glare. He held Elena close against his chest, his face filled with a soft, paternal tenderness that still brought tears to my eyes every time I saw it.

"She woke up early," Diego said, smiling as Elena let out a tiny, happy squeak, her small fist reaching for my dress. "She wanted to watch the boats come into the harbor."

I took Elena from his arms, cradling our daughter against my chest, feeling her warm, steady heartbeat against my skin.

"Look, Elena," I whispered, pointing out toward the deep blue water where a massive commercial cargo ship bearing the Ramos Shipping seal was gliding smoothly toward the Providence docks. "That's your daddy's ship."

Diego wrapped his arms around both of us from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder, his hands resting over mine as we held our daughter together.

"Our ship," Diego corrected gently. "Everything we have, everything we build, belongs to the three of us."

I leaned back against his strong, broad chest, feeling the unshakeable warmth of his presence.

Four years ago, I was a girl standing in a dark cathedral, wearing a five-figure gown designed to hide the marks of a brutal family, waiting to be handed over to an enemy as a hostage.

I had believed that the world was made of monsters, and that survival meant becoming as cold and unyielding as stone.

I looked down at my daughter’s flawless, smooth skin—a canvas that would never know fear, never know violence, and never know the weight of a cruel family legacy.

I looked at the sapphire ring shining on my finger in the morning sun.

The wedding dress had come off. The war had been fought. The monsters had been buried.

And beneath the ruins of the empire that had tried to destroy me, I hadn't just survived.

I had found my true home.

"I love you, Diego," I whispered into the morning breeze.