She Ran From Her Abusive Husband Into the Mafia Boss's Private Suite—And the Next Morning, the Entire City Belonged to Her

Six months later, the high-end legal restructuring of the Wentworth and its surrounding properties was complete, and the city of Providence had undergone a quiet, seismic shift in power.

Brett Howerin was currently serving a federal sentence in a medium-security facility in upstate New York, far away from any porch lights. Althia and Stellin had lost their social standing, their country club memberships, and their real estate investments, reduced to quiet anonymity in a distant suburb.

And Josie Karns?

She no longer pushed a linen cart or delivered catering boxes in the dead of night.

Standing on the private rooftop terrace of the Wentworth penthouse on a crisp autumn afternoon, Josie looked out over the sprawling skyline. She wore a tailored cashmere coat, her hair styled in soft waves, her hands completely free of bandages or scars.

The heavy mahogany door behind her opened softly, and footsteps crossed the stone patio.

Julian stepped up beside her, handing her a steaming cup of coffee before wrapping a warm arm around her shoulders. He didn't say anything; he simply stood there with her, watching the cargo ships move slowly across the harbor below.