55. Laszlo
Inever considered myself a lucky man. Sure, I grew up rich, practically nobility, but then my parents had me tortured by monsters as part of a ritual sacrifice.
I lacked love, and comfort, and safety.
All the time I planned for my revenge, I figured I’d die there. Hell, I hoped I would. I burned through my life like a dynamite, and all I wanted was to take out as many evil bastards as I could in the explosion.
I did that.
But I survived, because of her.
Because I wanted her, more than anything else.
I stroked her spine, tracing her peachy skin over her full hips, her round ass, and I sighed. “I can’t believe I get to see this sight every day for the rest of my life.”
When she shot me a look over her shoulder, it was with a lopsided smile.
“You’re getting sentimental after fucking the daylights out of me?”
I choked on my laughter. She rarely swore, but she picked up my bad habit. Hopefully that was one of the few.
“I was appreciating the view.” I smacked her right ass cheek, watching the flesh ripple, and she sucked in air. How was she so perfect? How did I find a wife that was kind, and sweet, and considerate, and mischievous?
That last trait had taken longer to come out, though there’d been hints since I first laid eyes on Evelyn Blake, staring down at me as I failed to place a bomb.
My Belle. My holy angel. My world.
She wriggled her hips, her pussy squeezing my spent member, and I hissed with the intensity. I fell back to the couch, bringing her with me, keeping her pinned on my lap.
“Is it weird being on the top of a mountain again?” I asked her.
“You know… I never thought of that.” She looked out the window, at the forests that sprawled beneath us. The air was thin, oxygen stolen by the fireplace as flames licked the stonework.
“Do you miss them?”
“I thought I would, but I’m grateful that to them, I’m dead. It’s over. Clean. And now I’m able to live a life on my own conditions. With you.”
I kissed her shoulder, both of us watching the snow fall, the fire crackle.
The past was written in the lines on my body, the scars on my psyche. Nothing I found could undo those wounds, and there were no answers that could grant me solace.
But the angel in my lap could.
She relaxed against me, her arm reaching up behind her, fingers in my buzzed hair.
“I like it better long.”
“Same. I’ll grow it back.”
“Do you think Roxy’s found her present yet?”
Lyn had crafted her a full set of matching jewels. Earrings, necklace, choker, bracelet, rings… The rubies would match her hair, and her personality.
It was as close to a farewell as we could risk.
“Yea. Roxy isn’t one to ignore red flags,” I teased. She elbowed me in the ribs and I smirked.
“I wish I could’ve said goodbye.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“She was my first friend.”
Lyn brought my hand to her face, kissing the back of it, over my Ouroboros tattoo.
Then my snake rings. The one with the claw—her first gift to me—and then the python protecting its egg.
Our wedding ring. It was a risk keeping them; we only wore them in private.
We kept the discrete set I’d first bought for public.
I’d softened inside her, seed spilling in my lap, but she didn’t move, and I didn’t want her to.
Because of Lyn’s bravery and cunning, we protected thirteen others from the same fate I suffered.
The eight kidnapped victims were returned to their parents.
The five children of the Bratva were quickly adopted into good homes.
Scorpion gave me that last report before we left the country, when I paid him off for the final time.
For decades, I worked to get the information from the Bratva about what happened to Lilien and I. What I managed to steal was partially corrupted, and the encryption was tough to crack, but I had enough.
I wasn’t the only survivor of the ritual child abuse. My sister got out, and I would find her. Lilien escaped the institute they’d imprisoned her in a decade ago. Lord Ivan Vasilyev failed to track her down before the eclipse. Now he was dead, along with his elite guards and most loyal followers.
The files I could access gave me clues that I would follow up on. Maybe there would be other survivors. It was enough, for now, to know she was alive.
It had been an exciting few months, fleeing everything we knew, exploring Europe. The moments for reflection had been blissfully few, but as the snow drifted lazily from the sky, it felt appropriate to mourn.
For the few people we cared about.
No man had the power to right the wrongs of what our parents did to us as children.
For Lilien, though, I would live.
For Lyn, I would love.
“I’ve been thinking, once we get to Hungary, it’ll be the first time since I was a kid that I wouldn’t have a purpose.”
Lyn grinned. “I thought I was your purpose.”
I kissed her shoulder blade, closing my eyes and breathing in that familiar, vanilla scent of her skin. She rested against me, my clothed limbs hugging her bare ones.
“You’ll have your shop, your jewellery, and I will demand you socialize and make some girl friends. I’ll need something to fill my time.”
“What were you thinking?” she asked, turning her face so that she could kiss my jawline.
“I’m sick of finance. It was never my dream. And neither of us needs to work for the rest of our life. But you know what I do like?”
She didn’t even hesitate. She blurted out, “Clothes,” then clapped her hand over her mouth, just like she used to when we first met. I laughed, hugging her into me.
“Yes. Clothes. There’s two stores, connected, right on main street.”
“Did you already buy them?”
My wife was always surprising me, but apparently, she read me like a book, and it filled me with a warmth I couldn’t hope to describe. To be known by someone so intimately, and loved by them…
It was everything that young Laszlo, the little boy I used to be, dreamed of.
“I did.”
Lyn caressed my cheek, then shivered. I stood her up, disentangling from her, and I grabbed a fluffy white blanket from the cupboard, wrapping it around her shoulders. She was staring at the sofa.
“We’re probably going to have to pay to replace this couch. I think we stained it,” she smirked.
“I’ll have it sent to our new home.”
Glee brightened her features at the reminder that soon, we would be home. We would be able to build a home together. Just us. No bodyguards, no Bratva, no religious orthodoxy.
Just us, with all our love.