* * *

I walked away from the Accardi family toward the church in the distance.

“Look,” Vincent said. “My people have asked around back in Chicago. You’re not engaged to Violet. You haven’t dated anyone in five years. So while I think the gallant flirtation you have going on is quite commendable, I don’t believe you have my niece’s best interests at heart.”

The gig was up.

“Right. You caught us,” I said. “We’re not really engaged. But in regards to Violet’s best interests, I’m crazy about your niece. I have genuine feelings for her. There’s nothing fake.”

“That’s great, Aiden. One tiny problem.” He pulled a pamphlet from his pocket. It was Violet’s contract with White Glove Agency. “It says here on page seven that at no time will a White Glove employee date or have relations with a client. It’s a violation of company policy.”

“That’s usually the rule, sir.”

“Is that usually the rule, Aiden? Or is that always the rule? You’re sleeping with my niece. What’s next? Breaking her heart? Setting her up with the wrong man after that? Someone who is a throw away so you can earn the payout that she brings you as a client? I’m not the most moral man in the world, but when it comes to family I am fiercely loyal. I hate to appeal to your morals, Aiden but in this case I have to. You need to leave Violet alone. Let her find a mate who is part of who she is. We can do that. You cannot. And you’re certainly not that guy.”

* * *

I built White Glove Agency as a way to help people. And in this process I’d found some redemption. But now here I was, sleeping with Violet Accardi, when I’d vowed to never get involved with one of my clients.

Was I that horrible person that Vincent made me feel like? I couldn’t stay here at Violet’s grandfather’s house surrounded by her family. I couldn’t stay here in Sicily.

I left the fair and hopped the funicular down the mountain to Trapani. I caught a taxi to the airport and booked the first flight out to Rome and then flew home to Chicago.

Sydney texted me when I arrived at Leonardo da Vinci airport.

I returned to White Glove Agency to check up on everything but it was a holiday and not much had happened in the last week. I walked the streets of Chicago for hours every day trying to clear my head.

Today was New Year’s Eve. I walked past bars and restaurants that were decked out, gearing up for late night celebrations. My phone buzzed a few times and I finally checked it.

People looked so happy, ready for the New Year and the fresh start it signified.

I found myself back outside Cathedral Basilica where I’d been just a week before. It had been five years since I’d set foot in a church. It felt like it was time. My phone buzzed.

I climbed the steps and entered the sanctuary. Rich tapestries hung from the walls. Murals depicting Christ and his apostles were painted on the domed ceiling. Thick, old wooden pews lined the church. Statues of saints rested in alcoves tucked into walls fronted by rows of votive candles. The main altar was adorned with gold-plated candelabras and religious ornaments.

The confessional booth beckoned. I entered and had a long talk with a kind priest. He told me to say five Hail Mary’s and make things right with everyone involved. On the way out of the booth I spotted a statue of St. Jude tucked in a corner. The Saint of Lost Causes felt like the perfect Saint for me.

I made my way to the alcove, crossed myself, and slipped some cash in the donation slot. I lit a candle and stared up at the Saint with the flames around his head. “I screwed up. I’m awfully sorry.”

“But you didn’t,” a woman’s voice said from behind me.

I turned and saw Violet Accardi.

Beautiful Violet.

Violet who had cracked open my cold, cold heart.

Violet whom I had left without saying a word.

“You probably hate me and frankly I don’t blame you,” I said.

“I’m pissed off at you, that’s for sure,” she said. “You left me high and dry with my crazy family over the holidays. That’s almost unforgiveable.”

“I should never have kissed you or made to love to you. I screwed up, Violet. I owe you the biggest apology in the world. I am so sorry.”

“I forgive you. Stop beating yourself up. Besides, Flavio’s taken up with Rosalia, who happens to be the second daughter on her side of the Accardi family. The blood pact is handled.”

“Thank God for that.” This woman made me laugh.

“There’s still two problems, Cuoco,” she said. “And I know you. You’re a problem solver.”

“What are they?” I stared at her, taking in that gorgeous face. Full lips. Chocolate eyes. Dark silky hair sweeping over the collar of her warm winter coat. My pulse quickened.

“One. I went from having two fiancés to having none,” she said, her lips quirking up in a smile. “This does not make a girl feel special.”

I looked up at the Statue of St. Jude and I could almost see the flames around his head glowing a little brighter. “I see. What’s your second problem?”

She walked toward me. “I’ve fallen completely and utterly under the spell of one man and I fear I’m off the market. I already told my matchmaker Charlotte that I won’t be needing White Glove’s services anymore.”

She held out her hand and I took it.

“At least not anyone associated with White Glove whose name isn’t Aiden Black.”

“You would give me another chance? You would date me for real?”

“We’d have to break your antiquated rules.”

I took her into my arms. “I’ve decided, Violet, that in this very specific case between you and me, this rule needs to be broken.”

And then I kissed her.

Home.

Violet Accardi was my home.

I had finally come home.