Chapter 9 - The Salon Where the Mafia Boss Learned to Smile
One year later, Grace's salon had doubled in size.
She had moved across the street into a larger building with tall windows, comfortable chairs, and a small café in the corner.
The sign above the entrance read:
MILLER & CO.
Grace had insisted on keeping the name simple.
Dominic had insisted on paying for the expansion.
She had refused.
He had secretly bought the building anyway.
She had been furious.
Then he had deeded it to her.
She had fallen silent.
"You really don't understand normal relationships," she told him.
"Probably not."
"You can't buy buildings for your girlfriend."
"I thought it was romantic."
"It's terrifying."
"I'll buy flowers next time."
"Flowers are safer."
He nodded.
"I'll remember."
Their relationship had become strangely ordinary.
Breakfast together.
Dinner.
Arguments about laundry.
Arguments about his habit of leaving watches on every flat surface.
Arguments about her bringing home stray animals.
Dominic had changed too.
He still carried himself like a man who expected trouble.
But he smiled more.
He laughed.
He visited Rose every Sunday.
He helped Anthony open a legitimate transportation company.
And once a month, he visited the children rescued through the investigation.
Grace noticed that was when she loved him most.
Not when he was powerful.
When he was gentle.
One evening, Grace found Dominic sitting in the waiting area of her salon.
A tiny paper bag in his hand.
"What did you buy?"
"Nothing."
"You're bad at lying."
He handed her the bag.
Inside was a pair of silver scissors.
Grace stared.
They looked almost identical to the antique scissors her grandmother had owned.
"I found them in an old auction."
She touched the engraved handle.
To Grace.
For the hands that saved us.
Her eyes filled.
"Dominic."
He shrugged.
"I thought you'd like them."
She hugged him.
He held her for a long moment.
Then he whispered:
"There's something else."
She pulled away.
"What?"
He reached into his jacket.
A ring.
Grace stopped breathing.
He got down on one knee.
The salon was empty.
No audience.
No music.
No dramatic speech.
Just Dominic.
"Grace, I spent my whole life believing love made people vulnerable."
She was already crying.
"You taught me something else."
He looked up at her.
"It makes people brave."
She covered her mouth.
"I don't want a perfect life."
He continued.
"I want ours."
Grace laughed through tears.
"You really prepared a speech."
"I practiced."
"How many times?"
"Twenty-three."
She laughed harder.
"You counted?"
"Of course."
He held out the ring.
"Marry me."
Grace stared at him.
"You know I hate being told what to do."
"I know."
"So?"
He smiled.
"I'm asking."
She took his hand.
"Yes."
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
Then they heard clapping.
Grace looked up.
Rose stood in the doorway with Anthony and Gianna.
Grace laughed.
"You knew?"
Rose grinned.
"Of course."
Gianna wiped away a tear.
"Finally."
Dominic groaned.
"This was supposed to be private."
Rose shrugged.
"I'm your mother."
"That explains nothing."
"It explains everything."
The next year was filled with plans.
A small wedding.
A garden.
Family.
Friends.
No ballroom.
No mafia spectacle.
Grace chose a quiet venue beside a lake.
Dominic chose nothing.
He said he didn't care as long as she was there.
On their wedding day, Grace stood before a mirror.
Her hair was down.
No extravagant styling.
No expensive jewelry.
Just the silver scissors charm hanging from a small chain around her neck.
Her grandmother gave it to her.
Evelyn came down the aisle with Grace.
Thomas stood beside Rose.
Daniel carried the rings.
Anthony gave a terrible speech.
Everyone laughed.
When Grace reached Dominic, he whispered:
"You look beautiful."
She smiled.
"You look nervous."
"I am."
"Good."
The ceremony was simple.
Their vows were honest.
No promises that life would never be hard.
Only promises that they would face it together.
When they kissed, Rose cried.
Daniel cheered.
May you like
And somewhere behind them, someone laughed.
The laughter sounded like freedom.
