Epilogue Frankie
OVER A YEAR LATER
The biggest and best first birthday shindig ever was in full swing, the streamers strung and a large, pink princess cake decked out with a garish candle in the shape of a number one prepared for the moment we’d light it and get our little girl to make a wish.
I didn’t have a single wish to make.
Everything I wanted was right here in this room, from the far end where my baby was giggling in the arms of her doting aunt, to the other corner, where one of my broody husbands was watching the party unfold with a peaceful look in his eye that someone less familiar with him might mistake for disinterest.
Stacks of presents practically tumbled off the table of our home’s entryway. Baby Sofia was too little to open them all herself, but we’d manage together, the way the five of us did everything these days.
The little girl of the hour was in the arms of my mom, who was proving to be a perfect party co-hostess even though I insisted she didn’t need to help with anything.
Still, for now, her arms were full of the chubby child who’d made me a mama, and she was hanging out by a table we’d turned into a build-your-own sundae bar.
What was even sweeter than the sundaes, though, was seeing my mom joined by the man she’d been dating for the past few months who treated her like a queen.
Though she’d ultimately decided against dating her physical therapist long term, that first foray into romance taught her she could do it.
Then she’d met Rick on the cruise.
The kind older man, a little more age appropriate for my mother than the prior guy had been and with his own baggage in the form of a long-dead beloved wife, had passed every test my guys and I had put him through so far.
I liked Rick a lot, and I loved seeing my mom happy even more.
Even her health had seemed to improve now that she was so happy—now that we all were.
And of course, she took to grandmotherhood perfectly.
“Is it time for cake yet?” Devin’s voice broke through my happy, dazed thoughts.
He slung an easy, muscled arm around my waist and planted a kiss on the side of my head.
“I’m starved, and I can’t wait to see Alex’s face when Sofie smashes the little one.
You know he’ll be stressed about her getting stains on her new party dress. ”
I leaned into Devin’s embrace, grinning. “Oh, don’t worry. She’s changing to a stain-proof outfit before cake time. But it’ll be soon. Grab some pizza in the meantime, babe.”
As if summoned by our good-natured teasing, another of my three gorgeous men joined my side, a soft, secret smile on his lips.
“Our baby is the star of the show,” Alex told me. He wasn’t one for PDA, so he stayed beside me, keeping his hands to himself other than reaching over to squeeze my hand in his own.
The warmth stayed with me even after he dropped it.
I followed his Tundra-blue eyes to where Sofia had now been handed off to one of her aunties, Elena, who had quickly become one of my best friends.
Lucia and Ava were getting there, too, though they didn’t have a shared love for romance novels that drew me and Elena together.
Sofia and Elena were laughing, playing some kind of silly game that entertained all the party guests in their vicinity, too. My heart squeezed at that sound.
My daughter’s laughter was the sweetest music to my ears.
“It’s her big day,” I agreed.
“She’s the star of the show every day,” Alex insisted.
He was still the cool, collected man I’d fallen for a year ago, but a new softness had come out since Sofia’s birth.
Every day, I got to watch him become more comfortable with fatherhood, with affection, with the loving tenderness he’d always deserved to experience.
“Maybe not for long,” Devin piped up from my other side. “If she becomes a big sister, she’ll have to learn to share the spotlight.”
“There’s plenty of room,” Jonathan pointed out, joining our trio at last. He was stunning in his best all-black suit, carrying the air of authority he’d settled so well into since his father passed. He threw a wink at me as he poured me a glass of champagne.
I smiled at him as I took it, remembering that first night, the bubbly I’d spilled down my front. Oh, how things had changed. Grown for the better.
“And you’ve gotta admit, Frankie, we made a pretty baby the first time.
” Devin again. His canines flashed as he grinned at me, and I flushed pink at this line of inquiry.
I loved the idea of growing our family further, and Devin’s continued campaign for more kids was endearing, softening my resolve to wait a while, at least until Sofie was out of diapers.
Things had settled in our lives enough that I felt that itch, that yearning to add more love to our family.
The Butera family, too, had turned over a new leaf thanks to my husband’s leadership.
Without Anthony’s iron fist leading the organization down darker and darker paths, I didn’t have to fear a loss of power or for the souls of my guys.
Of course, they’d never be fully out of the organized crime game, but their operations targeted bigger bads, more corrupt leaders, and a lot of the Butera fortune was now being funneled toward philanthropic causes.
A local children’s hospital—the very one where our baby girl was born—had been receiving anonymous donations for months now.
I was still so proud of Jonathan. The poise he’d exhibited while making these changes for the better, even as he faced opposition from some of the more old school Butera members, made me admire him all the more.
It was no wonder I wore the ring on my left hand that declared me theirs.
Of course, we couldn’t actually be married.
Not all four of us, the way we really wanted, and I had no desire to choose one of my men over the other just for the sake of some paperwork.
But the ring they’d given me after Sofia was born was all the confirmation I needed that this was forever.
Three small gems nicely aligned on a platinum band—onyx for Jonathan, emerald for Devin, and an icy aquamarine for Alexei.
The party went on, we cut the pink cake, and our unconventional family cherished every second of this milestone year.
Despite the rough start, the unbelievable auction story we could never tell our daughter, or her future siblings, or our one day gaggle of grandkids, I knew we’d cherish every other memory we made in the future, too.
Everything was as it should be, every strange, dangerous, chaotic piece of the puzzle a perfect fit.
And the picture it all made was a masterpiece.
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“Be a good girl.”
The first time one of my mother’s best friends said it,
I should have walked away.
Instead…
I stayed.