Chapter 10 - Leonardo Whispered “Marry Me” Two Years Later, and Sienna Made Him Ask Again Without the Ring in His Hand.
The criminal case took eighteen months.
No cinematic raid.
No handcuffs at gala.
Leonardo appeared through counsel.
Records.
Interviews.
Negotiation.
State and federal prosecutors separated conduct.
Some allegations did not hold.
Others did.
There.
Leonardo pleaded guilty to operating an illegal gambling business, conspiracy involving unlicensed lending, and a tax-related offense tied to cash reporting.
There.
No plea to violent assault.
No proof he ordered killings.
Good.
At sentencing, victims spoke.
One restaurant owner said Vitali money kept his business open after bank rejection.
Then:
“When I wanted out, their collectors made me believe leaving was not my choice.”
There.
Both.
Another owner said Leonardo once stopped a violent collector after learning what happened.
Then:
“He kept the loan book afterward.”
There.
There.
No hero story.
Leonardo listened.
Sienna attended because she chose.
Not front row beside his mother for cameras.
Back with Mara? Her lawyer needn't. Maybe alone with Elena nearby.
Good.
He received eighteen months in federal custody? Need serious but not too long. Could be 14 months plus supervised release, fines, restitution. Let's do 16 months. But then title romance can sustain. Two years later proposal after release maybe longer timeline. Good.
Sentence:
Sixteen months custody.
Three years supervised release.
Substantial fines.
Restitution fund administered independently.
There.
Vitali Holdings legitimate businesses under compliance monitor.
No operational role in gaming/lending structures.
There.
Sienna cried.
Not because sentence unfair.
Because separation hurts even when consequence makes sense.
Leonardo did not ask her to wait.
Important.
Before reporting, he said:
“You should live.”
There.
She stared.
“That sounds like breakup language.”
“It is not.”
There.
“It is non-obligation language.”
Good.
“You can visit if you want.”
There.
“You can stop if you want.”
There.
“You can leave the relationship if you want.”
There.
“And you?”
“I want you.”
There.
“Still.”
Good.
“But wanting is not a sentence for you.”
There.
Sienna nodded.
She visited.
Not every week.
Work.
Mother.
Life.
Sometimes twice a month.
Sometimes six weeks.
There.
No guilt.
Leonardo wrote letters.
Not romantic novels.
Observations.
Books.
Complaints about institutional coffee.
Good.
Sienna’s career grew.
She took a supporting role in a limited series.
Then a stage lead.
There.
No Vitali funding.
Her agent checked.
Good.
Lucia’s treatment reached maintenance.
Not cured forever.
Stable.
There.
Sienna bought a small condo with her own earnings plus part of contract money after two years.
No Leonardo title.
Good.
When he was released after credits, she did not meet him at gate.
There.
His mother did.
Victor drove.
Sienna saw him next day.
Public park.
He looked thinner.
Older.
No dramatic kiss until she reached.
Then she hugged him.
His arms closed.
There.
No camera.
Good.
They resumed.
Slow.
Prison had not purified him.
He came home impatient.
Overcontrolled schedules.
Struggled with not being obeyed.
Therapy.
Supervised release.
Board limitations.
There.
Sienna did not praise compliance.
Good.
He worked as non-executive strategic adviser after approval, not CEO.
Independent CEO ran Vitali Holdings.
Dario hated this until he saw company did not collapse.
Then hated it more quietly.
Good.
Bianca built law practice focused on family-business governance.
She and Leonardo remained friends.
No triangle.
Good.
Two years after release, Sienna opened in a new play.
Lead.
Reviews strong.
Opening night.
Leonardo attended with Elena and Lucia.
Dario? Perhaps yes, awkward. He came too, because over years relationship improved but not sentimental. Fine.
After party, Sienna returned to apartment exhausted.
Leonardo followed because invited.
There.
He removed tie.
She kicked shoes.
They ate leftover fries.
A callback to wedding-night cake? Not same couple. Still food.
Then Leonardo became strange.
Quiet.
Pacing.
Sienna looked.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
There.
She stared.
He stopped.
“Right.”
Good.
Then he reached into jacket.
Ring box.
There.
Sienna’s heart stopped.
Leonardo looked more frightened than she had ever seen him facing prosecutors.
He opened.
Simple ring.
Elegant.
Not absurdly huge.
Good.
Then he whispered:
“Marry me.”
There.
Sienna’s eyes filled.
Title line.
But something bothered her.
Not the proposal.
The form.
Command.
Even soft.
Even romantic.
She stared.
Leonardo’s face changed.
“What?”
There.
She laughed through tears.
“You really learned nothing.”
He looked horrified.
“What did I—”
“Ask.”
There.
He froze.
Then looked at ring.
Then at her.
Understanding.
There.
He closed box.
Set it on table.
Good.
No leverage in hand.
Then stood empty-handed.
“Sienna.”
There.
“Yes?”
“Will you marry me?”
There.
She breathed.
Not yet.
She asked:
“Why?”
He almost laughed.
“Because I love you.”
“That is necessary.”
There.
“Not sufficient.”
Good.
He nodded.
“Because I like our life.”
There.
“Because I want mornings and bad restaurants and your mother insulting my suits.”
There.
“I want to be the person you call when you want me, not because a contract says I arrive.”
There.
“I want a marriage where your no survives my money.”
There.
Sienna’s throat closed.
He continued.
“I want you to keep acting.”
There.
“I want you to keep your accounts.”
There.
“I want a prenup that protects both of us.”
There.
“I want you to have a home you can leave me from if you ever need to.”
There.
“That is a terrible proposal.”
Sienna whispered.
“I know.”
Good.
Then:
“And I want to ask again in six months if you need six months.”
There.
“No deadline.”
Good.
Sienna stared.
Then smiled.
“Yes.”
There.
Leonardo did not move.
“Is that yes to six months?”
She laughed.
“Yes to marrying you.”
There.
He closed eyes.
Relief.
Then:
“May I kiss you?”
Sienna shook head.
“No.”
There.
His eyes opened.
She smiled.
“First give me the ring.”
Good.
He laughed.
Then handed it.
She put it on herself.
There.
Choice even in ritual.
Then she kissed him.
Good.
The next morning, they called mothers.
Lucia shouted.
Elena cried.
Dario said:
“Congratulations.”
There.
Then, after pause:
“Do I have any role?”
Leonardo looked at Sienna on speaker.
She said:
“Guest.”
There.
Dario laughed once.
“Fair.”
Good.
Then lawyers.
Of course.
Prenup.
Independent counsel.
No automatic rights to Sienna’s earnings.
No control over her career.
Separate property.
Defined shared property.
No confidentiality clause covering unlawful conduct or abuse.
There.
Marriage as structure.
Not cage.
Good.
Dario complained the document lacked “family protections.”
Sienna said:
“It has family protections.”
There.
“Protection from family.”
Good.
Elena laughed for five minutes.
Then one clause Leonardo insisted on.
If either spouse wanted to separate, no family-owned housing, medical insurance, security access, or business relationship could be conditioned on staying married.
There.
Sienna looked at him.
“You planned my exit.”
He answered:
“I planned both of ours.”
There.
Good.
No one should need courage plus poverty to leave.
That was a lesson both their families had avoided.
Then wedding planning.
Small.
No alliance.
No corporate announcement.
Bianca invited.
Donato not invited? Maybe if Bianca wants? No. He had no relationship with Sienna. Fine.
Dario and Elena.
Lucia.
Friends.
Cast.
Victor.
There.
No staged press.
No exclusive photos.
Their first relationship had existed for audience.
Their marriage would begin without one.
That mattered.
Then, one week before wedding, Sienna found original contract in file drawer.
Fourteen pages.
Day one signatures.
Clause:
Performed affection shall not constitute evidence of a personal relationship.
There.
She laughed.
Leonardo looked over shoulder.
“What?”
She showed.
He smiled.
“Good clause.”
“Very.”
There.
“Should we frame it?”
“No.”
Good.
She shredded her copy only after lawyer confirmed retention not needed? Better preserve legal records. She did not shred. Keep archive.
She put it back.
History.
Not prophecy.
Then closed drawer.
Ninety days had bought performance.
Everything after had cost something else.
Patience.
Truth.
Consequences.
Choice.
Far more expensive.
Worth more.
The proposal also changed nothing about Sienna’s professional name.
She kept Marchetti.
On contracts.
Playbills.
Credits.
There.
Leonardo never suggested otherwise.
When one society reporter later called her “Mrs. Leonardo Vitali,” she corrected:
“Sienna Marchetti.”
There.
Marriage added a relationship.
It did not replace an identity.
That principle sounded obvious.
In their families, obvious things often needed to be written, repeated, and defended anyway.
Sienna also insisted they spend six months engaged before signing anything final. Not because she doubted the yes. Because engagement brought new negotiations: housing, estate planning, medical authority, security, press, family expectations, and what happened if either person changed their mind. Leonardo agreed. They met with separate attorneys. When his lawyer used the phrase “standard family protections,” Sienna asked for every protection to be translated into plain English. Two clauses disappeared under that scrutiny. One would have given a Vitali trustee temporary control over certain shared assets during a separation. Another imposed overly broad confidentiality after divorce. Leonardo removed both without argument. “If a marriage needs hidden leverage to survive,” he said, “it should not survive.” That sentence mattered more to Sienna than the ring.
May you like
By the end of those six months, the engagement felt less like waiting and more like testing whether their ordinary life matched the promise. It did often enough. Not perfectly. That was exactly why Sienna trusted it.
They were ready because neither needed the wedding to prove the relationship was real.
