Tangled In Strings

Epilogue: PART ONE

However, Tony was sentenced a month ago. He is finally locked away, unable to do any harm.

Dixon is gone.

And my "father" should know better than to ever attempt to speak to me again. Giovanni made sure of that.

We've successfully beaten the demons, and for once, as Connor walks away, I allow myself to feel the excitement I should feel for the days ahead. It's much warmer in California compared to New York, and I'm not used to the lack of layers yet. Wearing a turtleneck dress that is stretchy enough to accommodate my massive stomach, a scarf and heeled leather boots, I am sufficiently warm.

Ignoring the pestering from the reporters, I turn in search for Giovanni, instantly blushing when I find him waiting. In a custom-made suit, as usual, he stands out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the onlookers. His gravitational pull brings me to him within seconds. He kisses my cheek chastely, refusing to give the reporters any further insight into our private life.

"Congratulations, baby," he says low, next to my ear.

"Thanks." He helps me down the step off the stage, and behind the pillar, shielding us from the cameras. "When are you going?"

He glances down at the sleek watch I gave him for Christmas, and grimaces. "Now, actually."

"Thank you for coming."

He chuckles, clasping my cheeks. "Wouldn't miss it."

His mouth is warm, and inviting, but the flashes from paparazzi that have found their way to us force us apart. He smiles though, instead of sighing like I do.

"I look forward to working with you, Mrs. Martinelli."

My smile creeps wider as he backs up. "Likewise, Mr. Martinelli."

...

"You know, I'm really glad for all this publicity actually," I say with a grunt, sitting down onto the large couch in my office. Rebecca extends a large present. My stomach against my hand feels stretched to its limit. "It means Giovanni and I may not have to go through the dreaded marriage ceremony after all."

She shakes her head at me, pointedly. "Um, you're having that wedding. I fully plan to be your maid-of-honor. Since you denied me a proper baby shower," she gestures to the small cake on my desk and the array of presents sent over the months that I've refused to open until now, "I get to demand a wedding."

"This is great, Bec. A cake and you. I don't need a bunch of girls, fondling my stomach and trying to make me feel good."

"It's tradition!"

"Which I hate, as displayed by my quick and hasty flight to Niagara Falls."

"These presents aren't even going to be good! Half of them are belated wedding gifts by sponsors and clients. And the other half is for the unveiling—"

I smile, softly. "Bec."

She huffs. "What?"

"This is great. Exactly what I want."

She rolls her eyes, growling rather loudly as she stomps her way out of my office, to inform the office that there is cake left, which will no doubt send them in flocks. I rip open the small envelope on top of a slim box and pull out the card.

Sweetheart,

I know there is a pretty large divide between us now, and I hate that. And the way I treated Norman in the end, and you. I should have been there, through to the end, and I'm sorry...I didn't expect it to be so hard. I'm not writing to ask you for anything, or to forgive me, but I want you to know that I am so happy you can move on with your life. For so long, Dixon haunted you, and your father. He always wanted the best for you.