Page 83 of Bound

Then at Erin.

“It worked,” he says, like he cannot believe he was right.

I look at my brother. The boy I protected by becoming a monster.

The man who helped end one.

“Yes,” I say. “It worked.”

His eyes shine. Then, he fully takes in the body of the dead man lying on the floor. A momentary shade of color fades from his face.

It’s quickly replaced with the sharp word, “Good,” and the locked set of his jaw.

And so, it begins.

I put a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the scene like I can still shield him from this world.

But I can’t.

And now, he wouldn’t want me to.

We leave Carlos behind on the concrete with his screens dark, his files exposed, his men gone, his lies severed, and no one left to listen.

She takes my hand and leads me right out the front door. The cold air hits my face. The smoke has thinned. Snow falls through the red pulse of dying alarms. Men move across the courtyard, securing doors, checking roofs, calling all-clears.

Open.

I stand on the sidewalk and look back at what will soon be the place I purchase the only physical proof of my love I can give.

You know it by now.

Four carats. Princess cut. Platinum band.

With an inscription inside.

I know what it will say.

Isobel is standing on the sidewalk, under guard in her white coat, face turned toward the sky as snow melts against her cheeks.

Blaze is calling Cleo on the phone and saying, “Before you yell, I’m alive and handsome.”

Mack is checking every angle as if peace is suspicious.

I look at Erin.

Alive.

Free.

Mine because she chooses.

Behind us, Carlos lies dead under the old Village.

Ahead, our home waits unfinished in the snow.

For the first time in years, the fire is out.

And the Mafia King walks out of the ashes a better man.