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And now…this moment where he was back. Flesh and blood, cold eyes, warm body, and gentle mouth.
Whatever came tomorrow, I knew that I was brave enough now to face it because he had made me so. He had made me strong enough to stand on my own and then he’d returned to show me that I didn’t have to.
I closed my eyes, but I didn’t wish for anything because I already had what I wanted.
He was a man of his word. He’d returned and, come what may, we would always have the sanctuary of each other to rest in.
EPILOGUE
Christmas
Several Years Later
LUCIEN
The front door slammed. I paused in the hallway, my glass resting in my hand. The house was too silent. My spine prickled as I placed one foot over the other and made my way down the corridor to the spacious foyer.
Out of nowhere, a ball of freezing ice hit my shoulder. I whirled, setting the glass down on the hall table, and yanked open the coat closet. There was a roar of laughter and Ettore and Atlas burst into the hallway, shrieking and stumbling over each other.
“Come on, dad,” Ettore taunted. “Are you scared? Let’s go, it’s snowing!”
I wasn’t scared, I was fifty-seven and I had a bad hip, but that wasn’t about to stop me. I felt my brow twitch and the twins scattered, knowing their time was up. They bolted, tearing open the door and spilling out into the lawn in their sweaters, pants, and boots.
I followed in just my rolled shirtsleeves. It wasn’t that cold and snow fell in a thick layer around the farmhouse. The twins ran down the driveway lined with fir trees, pelting snowballs back and forth as they went. I took a beat to check my watch and let my eyes rove over the hills and dark line of the highway winding its way through.
Olivia and Marco would be home soon.
I’d driven her up to Marco’s university in upstate New York yesterday. They’d spent the day in the small town nearby and Marco was driving them home today.
It was the first time Liv had ever left us home alone overnight. I hadn’t slept much—the bed felt large and empty—and had woken early to call her before they went out for breakfast.
I’d pulled Marco aside before I left yesterday. He was a lean young man of almost twenty-one now. The older he got, the brighter his hazel eyes and darker his hair became. In the last year he’d started bulking up to match my body type.
“You be careful coming home,” I said, handing him a square, black case with a handle.
He unzipped the top, his eyes flicking over the pistol and ammunition inside. Without blinking, he nodded once and placed it in the back seat of his SUV.
We both glanced across the street where Olivia was grabbing a coffee. I could see her inside the cafe, her red turtleneck bright through the glass.
“Do you need me to send a guard?” I asked.
His lips thinned in a smile. “No, dad, I’ve got this. I can shoot and fight the same as you.”
“Precious cargo,” I said. “You bring my wife back, alright?”
“Dad,” Marco said. “Mom and I are going to be fine. It’s a small town. She just wants to get some last minute shopping done and we’ll probably go out for dinner later. It’s safe and I’ll carry the whole time.”
He understood why I was so hesitant to leave her. When he’d hit eighteen, I brought him along for a hunting weekend with Cosimo and Duran. There, I’d taken a day alone and told him everything.
The entire story about the circumstances of Olivia and I’s marriage and the rebellion. With Olivia’s permission, I told him what Romano had done to her and me both. It felt important that he knew my actions were justified.
I told him about Rosario Barone and Riccardo Mezzasalma.
And I told him exactly what the world expected of an Esposito heir, but I made sure he understood he had a choice. He could walk away if he wanted.
At the end of it, he was a little pale. I passed him a cigarette—after telling him not to mention to Olivia that I’d given it to him—and we smoked in silence.
“So, you and mom weren’t always so gross with each other,” he said.
