Epilogue
EPILOGUE
SWITCH
Perdition is on fire tonight—music low, drinks flowing, brothers laughing. It’s been months since everything settled, and for once, things finally feel right.
I walk in, scanning the room, and my eyes land on her. Bella, my wife. She’s been out for a girls’ day and just made it back to the club. She’s at the bar, leaning against it, laughing with the other old ladies. Carlie, Jenny, Sophie, Chloe—all of them wrapped up in some conversation, probably giving Dagger or Tank hell about something. She’s in her element, completely at home in a place she never thought she belonged. And fuck if it doesn’t make me love her more. But then… something catches my eye.
A glimpse of white just above the waistline of her jeans— a bandage, mostly hidden beneath her shirt. My body moves before my brain even catches up, instinct driving me forward. Bella spots me, her smile softening as I step in behind her, pressing a slow kiss to the curve of her neck. But my fingers drift lower, tracing over the edge of the bandage, right where skin meets denim.
“You okay?” My voice is low, rougher than I intended.
She tilts her head, looking back at me, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says, but there’s hesitation in the way she answers.
I narrow my gaze, lifting the back of her shirt slightly. And that’s when I see it. Ink. I blink, my brain stalling for a second before the words catch up. “Is that a tattoo?”
She nods, biting her lip, watching me carefully.
I grab her hips and get on my knees so I can get a good look. Fucking hell, it’s our Iron Reapers patch, bold and dark, inked right there on her lower back. And surrounding it? Property of Switch.
My chest goes tight. I lift my gaze to hers, still trying to process it. “You branded yourself with the club? With my name?”
She nods again, but there’s hesitation in the movement, like she’s not sure how I feel about it. Like she thinks I wouldn’t love the fact that my woman permanently marked herself as mine.
I shake my head, a slow grin pulling at my lips. Then, without another word, I grab the back of her neck and kiss the hell out of her, making damn sure every single person in this bar knows exactly what she is to me. Hell, most of them already do. Mine.
When I finally pull back, she’s breathless, her hands fisted in my cut.
“You really think I’d be anything but obsessed with this?” I rasp, my thumb brushing against her lower back, tracing the ink. “Jesus, baby, you just made sure there’s no getting rid of me now.”
She laughs, relaxing into me. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
I press another kiss to her lips, murmuring against them. “Good. Because you’re mine, Bella. Always.” And now the whole damn world knows it too.