Epilogue
VALERIAN
I wake up a few hazy hours later holding Joy close to my chest.
The golden light spilling in through the drapes tells me it’s late afternoon.
I kiss her on the forehead and put on some clothes, leaving her to rest. She can’t have had much over the past ten months, carrying and birthing our child into the world, and then finding out I was dead.
Sometimes, emotional roller coasters are needed in order to figure out what you desire most in the world.
Siguard’s reappearance put some things into perspective. So did the six months I spent alone in Russia, walking down the same streets I used to wander down as a boy, questioning the world, figuring out why nobody believed me.
Power forces people to believe when you’re holding a knife at someone’s throat.
Sometimes, it will still be necessary to do that. The tattoos on my skin bond me to the Bratva I created. It will exist inside of me forever as I move into the next phase of my life—being a father.
And what better way to jump into that role by making everyone breakfast?
“Move aside,” I say to Galina. “And take off the apron.”
Galina frowns. “You feel okay, Mr. Valerian?”
After the rooftop incident, Galina heard the truth about why I killed my previous wife, Rachel. But that doesn’t mean she no longer looks at me like I’m holding her at gunpoint.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“I think we all heard that you’re perfectly fine,” sneers Igor, entering the kitchen with Hope in his arms. “I get that you’re in love, but if you could be mindful of the volume the next time you’re fucking my ex…”
It’s still quite a sensitive topic. I suspect it will be that way for a while, considering Igor did actually have feelings for Joy once.
I can see why he picked her out of the crowd initially. She’s petite and very pretty. Looks easy to manipulate on the surface. But then you get to know her and realize she has a complexity that most people in this city lack—including people like us.
“This is still my house,” I say to Igor. “I’ll treat it as such until I sign the property over into your name.”
“Which will be when, exactly?” Igor sits at the table, fussing his niece.
I catch him off guard, seeing him smile as he fiddles with Hope. She wraps her fingers around his.
“She very cute,” says Galina, stepping back as I take over the stove. “I’m glad you forced Joy to marry you.”
“Me too,” I say, whisking eggs in the pan. “She needed a little push in the right direction.”
“Miss Joy big designer now, Mr. Valerian.”
I turn around from the stove. “What?”
“It’s true.” Joy walks into the room, rubbing sleep from her eye. She’s wearing one of my shirts. It drapes all the way down to her knees.
“And you didn’t think to tell me.”
“Four days,” she reiterates, folding her arms over her chest.
Fair enough.
“Miss Joy has beautiful designs.”
My chest feels fuzzy as I admire the sensational woman before me, the one who grew our daughter and broke into the fashion market, all at once.
Joy flashes me a look. “Don’t say it.”
“I don’t need to,” I tease. “I already told you I saw potential. It just took you a while to open your eyes and see it for yourself.”
Joy takes Hope from Igor, cradling our daughter in her arms.
I return to the eggs, which are burnt, a thread of smoke coming from underneath the pan.
“It best if I take over,” says Galina, stepping in to rescue the eggs.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“We’re eating charred eggs otherwise, Mr. Valerian.” Galina takes the spatula from me, pressing a button on the top of the stove—the extractor fan, I think it’s called. “The kitchen is my place. Yours is down the side alley, making people pay for their sins.”
“From what I heard earlier, his place is in the bedroom,” huffs Igor, the chair scraping on the floor as he rises from the table.
He turns to Joy on his way out, lowering his voice so only she can hear.
“I’m sorry for what I did.” He pauses. “It never occurred to me at the time that you could have gone to prison. I was careless, only thinking of myself.” He glances briefly in my direction, looking back at her. “I’m glad my father found you.”
“Me too,” says Joy, flashing Igor one last smile before he disappears down the corridors.
Time slows down as Joy and I share eye contact across the kitchen.
If there was even a slimmest chance I could get this woman back into my life, I was gonna take it.
If she didn’t show up today for my funeral, I was tempted to put a bullet through my own heart to save myself from the heartbreak of never getting to look into her eyes again and meet my daughter.
I have Igor, but a part of me will always cling onto the guilt for what I put him through.
Joy and Hope will always be my clean slate. And I fear their absence in my life will revert me back to the man I used to be.
Without them, I’d be tangled back up in hatred, since hate is an easier emotion to feel than the raw pain that comes with losing someone you love.
“Eggs are ready,” announces Galina, setting the table for us.
I sit across from Joy, pick up the knife and fork, and tuck into the rest of my life.
The End.
P.S. Looking for your next binge read? I have a feeling you’ll love Claimed by the Boss! Swipe to the next page for a little sneak peek…