33 Three hundred people watched a wealthy woman scream at an elderly guest over a spilled glass of wine.

Three weeks later, the morning sun broke brightly over Manhattan, washing away the grey chill of early winter.

The trial of the century had concluded in record time. Using the massive array of decrypted evidence I had provided, federal prosecutors completely dismantled the Falcone crime syndicate. Dominic Falcone was sentenced to life in prison without parole, while his associates were stripped of their illegal assets and sent to federal penitentiaries.

My father's name was officially cleared by the Department of Justice. A national news broadcast publicly apologized for the false narrative that had ruined his legacy, hailing Arthur Bennett as a courageous whistle-blower who had given his life to expose corruption.

I stood on the balcony of Lorenzo's penthouse suite, drinking a cup of fresh coffee, watching the boats glide along the Hudson River. I wore a comfortable cream-colored cashmere sweater, feeling a profound sense of peace I hadn't known since I was a young girl.

The glass door slid open, and Lorenzo stepped out onto the balcony, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me gently against his chest.

"You're thinking about him," Lorenzo said softly, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I'm thinking about how much he would have loved this view," I admitted, turning my head to kiss Lorenzo’s cheek. "He always told me that the truth is like the sun—it might be blocked by clouds for a while, but it always finds a way to shine through."

"He was a smart man," Lorenzo smiled, his hand coming up to intertwine his fingers with mine. "And he raised an extraordinary daughter."

"So, what happens now, Boss?" I teased, turning in his arms to face him. "My job as your Senior Financial Analyst is technically over now that the ledgers are clean."

Lorenzo feigned a look of deep disappointment. "Over? Absolutely not. I have three international shipping acquisitions in Europe next month, and my head of finance informs me that we need a permanent Chief Operating Officer."

"Oh? And who is this head of finance?"

"Me," Lorenzo said, a gorgeous, genuine smile lighting up his dark face. "And I refuse to let my best asset leave the company."

"Is that so?" I laughed softly, tracing the lapel of his shirt with my fingers. "And what does the position pay?"

Lorenzo’s expression grew serious, his gaze darkening with an intense, profound emotion that made my breath catch in my throat.

"It pays everything I own, Clara," he whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. "My heart, my home, my name, and my entire life."

He opened the box to reveal a breathtaking ring—a rare, flawless canary yellow diamond surrounded by a halo of brilliant white diamonds, sparkling brilliantly in the morning sun.

"Clara Bennett," Lorenzo said, looking deep into my eyes with absolute vulnerability and devotion. "You walked into my life when I thought I was doomed to live in the dark. You saved my mother, you restored your family's honor, and you captured my soul. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"