Epilogue
Everything After
Reiko Guerra perched with a strange, forgotten kind of nervousness against her husband’s imported work desk while she waited for him to return to his office.
She had it on very good authority that his meeting was wrapping up, and she knew she’d feel better as soon as she could move forward.
But moving forward, as it always did, required him.
She turned her gaze to the desktop in search of a distraction and smiled at the photos her big, bad mafia boss husband kept on display.
Five separate, scrolling digital squares, each with uniquely styled frames to represent the relationships depicted within.
Photos of the two of them rolled past, in no particular order, their smiles and the flashy jewelry he insisted on buying her blinding the camera.
In others, pictures of their gorgeous babies.
Her eye caught one of their oldest’s more recent photos, his giant grin beaming up at the world while he held a nest of hair in his hand.
The nest had been his insisted attempt at braiding his poor sister’s hair, of course, and detangling that had resulted in a nightmare Reiko hadn’t fully shaken off.
But Seia’s look of goofy pride was adorable, regardless.
Granted, she was biased.
Emotion threatened to choke her and Reiko looked away as the sound of voices finally drifted closer.
There would be plenty of tears later. Ironically, finding security and comfort had also apparently meant finding the freedom to show more emotion, because she no longer remembered the version of herself who’d gone numb to the world and its cruelties.
Once upon a time, she would have thought that a frightening thing.
Her phone buzzed in her hand and she quickly glanced down, seeing a text from Irene.
He’s all yours.
Reiko bit back the chuckle the other woman’s words inspired and tucked her phone away, looking up as the door swung open. As so often happened, Santino’s unmistakable, laughing voice preceded him into the room.
He turned into the room even as he rambled some instruction for his long-suffering assistant to enjoy her lunch and both eyebrows leapt up his forehead.
The years had been kind to him, even if the events of life hadn’t always had the same curtesy.
Though there was nothing to be done for the bit of ear he’d lost that night in the basement, Reiko’s forty-two-year-old husband still looked like a man in his early thirties.
Up close, she knew streaks of silver ran through his sunlit blond, but from a distance, the bit of silver he’d developed only made the natural yellow lighter.
If he’d developed wrinkles, she hadn’t noticed.
She was probably biased there, too.
And he still smiled like a little boy at Christmas when he was excited over damn near anything, so of course, it only took a moment for his face to light up.
“This is a treat! What’s my beautiful wife doing waiting by herself in my office on a workday?
Did you miss me too much to wait for me to make it home?
” He made a show of glancing down at the flashy wristwatch he still wore, as if he didn’t know what time it was.
“I didn’t miss an appointment somewhere, right? ”
Reiko smiled. The man had missed one appointment, years earlier, and been harder on himself than she would have known how.
She straightened from the desk and gave a shake of her head as he closed the distance between them.
“No appointments, and everyone’s fine.” His hands curved around her hips, tugging her close, and she lowered her voice on reflex.
“Though I do always miss you when you’re at work. ”
He rumbled with a low chuckle and settled his lips over hers in a short, wet kiss. “You’re gonna give a man all the wrong impressions if you just popped over here to see me,” he teased when their eyes met again. “Although, conveniently, I don’t have another appointment on deck for a bit.”
Reiko trailed one hand up his chest and surreptitiously slipped the other into her dress pocket. “This may come as a shock to you, my love, but I know that already.”
His grin widened. “Naughty girl. Have you been talking to my assistant again?”
“She likes me more than you most days, I think.”
“Perfectly reasonable,” he deadpanned. “I like you more than me most days, too.”
Reiko arched a brow, playing into his joke. “And the other days?”
Santino hummed as if he were thinking it over. “There are these four tiny humans who sometimes distract me. It’s a very different type of affection, but I’m pretty sure it’s love.”
Her heart melted and she rubbed her fingers over the fabric of his work shirt.
“About those four sweet, tiny humans,” she said, holding his stare carefully.
She saw the instant his playfulness switched to alertness, despite that she had already told him everyone was fine, but she bit back her instinct to smile in reassurance.
Instead, she held up the pen-sized stick she’d hidden in her pocket. “I hope you still want that fifth.”
She knew he did. She knew they did. Just as she knew that they had both expected it wouldn’t happen quite so soon. It’d barely been a year since their fourth was born. Her body had not historically recovered and re-engaged that quickly for their previous children.
But she was already excited.
She’d promised him five. She’d even gotten to the point where she wanted as many herself.
Santino had tried insisting it was okay to adopt when she’d had a few complications with their first daughter, baby number three, but nothing too dramatic had happened.
Little Noemi had been born a couple of weeks premature but otherwise healthy.
So, they’d agreed, as long as it remained what she wanted and there were no medical neon signs warning against it, they would continue the plan for five biological babies.
Reiko rolled her lip between her teeth as she watched Santino’s gaze lock in on the unassuming stick.
She felt his chest heave beneath her palm.
It was a bit sooner than anticipated, but that wasn’t exactly an issue.
They had money, they had space, they had familial support and resources in abundance.
They were going to have five kids before they hit their tenth anniversary.
His grin returned, splitting his face, and his fingers flexed over her hips. “We’re finally getting a November baby.”
Her mouth opened, but it took Reiko a moment to catalogue his response. “What?”
“She’s probably our own personal Valentine’s present.” He couldn’t say it without a chuckle.
Reiko slumped forward, tucking away the pregnancy test, and let out a sigh. “Well, yes, but— She?”
Santino scooped her up, crossed his office, and elbowed open the inner door Reiko had used for her sneaky entrance not twenty minutes earlier.
She didn’t have to look around to know he’d left the murphy bed down from their last impromptu romp, but she was mildly surprised when he set her on the edge rather than tackling her fully to the mattress.
He cupped her face, pulled her in for a deep, searing kiss, then stepped away.
Reiko blinked hard in an effort to clear her foggy mind as her husband fast-walked around the smaller desk he kept in the inset office and pushed aside the anniversary portrait on the wall behind.
She watched him unlock and open the safe mounted behind, confusion dousing the arousal his kiss had sparked.
“Santino, what are you doing?” Was he … not excited?
He pulled a single piece of paper from inside, shut the safe again, and started back for her.
“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he said.
His blue eyes were lit with surprisingly well-contained enthusiasm, leaving her more confused.
He folded the paper in half carefully, then turned the upper half toward her.
“This one’s a girl. I can feel it. And this is what I think we should name her. ”
“You can feel it.” The most scientific, foolproof argument ever. Reiko bit back a laugh and obligingly accepted the paper.
Her amusement faded, replaced by that warm, puddly feeling in her chest as she looked at his notes. He hadn’t just picked a name; he’d carefully chosen the specific associated kanji he wanted to pair each character to. Just as they had done for all their children.
The choice had not proven easy with the more Italian-inspired names, like Noemi, whom Reiko had insisted they name after his innocent cousin who’d never had a chance at life.
But since Santino had initially insisted they give their firstborn a Japanese name to reflect the heritage of his mother’s side, particularly in light of the reality that he would be influenced heavily by his Italian roots, they had agreed they needed to at least give all their children kanji alternates.
Theirs was a family of blended cultures. They were making it up as they went, but she felt like they were starting off well. She traced a fingertip along the first character he’d drawn. There was a layered poetry in his choice, too.
“Tiara,” Santino said, speaking it aloud for the first time. “Heaven’s beloved treasure.” He dropped to a crouch in front of her and splayed his palm over Reiko’s belly. “She’ll be our little princess.”
Dammit. Reiko set aside his notes and reached out to run her fingers through the hair he still kept long enough to partially obscure his scarred ear. “I guess we’ll name her Tiara, then. If this one’s a girl. You do tend to shoot boys.”
Santino laughed and toppled her backward, pinning her to the bed. “Three boys is plenty. The legacy’s covered, we’re basically the next De Salvos now, and a couple girls will keep ‘em humble. Or at least busy.”
Reiko curled her fingers in the collar of his shirt. “Santino Guerra, we are not raising the next generation of De Salvos. I’m pretty sure they are, anyway. Now shut up and give me an orgasm.”
Hunger sparked in his eyes and he swept a hand beneath the skirt of her dress without preamble. “Your wish is my command, wife.”
The End