Epilogue #2
"The night she arrived," I continue, the words coming slowly, "she looked at me like she was already dead." I watch Zaria across the lawn, the way sunlight catches her hair. "She told me to pull the trigger. Meant it, too."
Matei is quiet, then turns to me. "And now?"
"Now she runs the company her father built to destroy us, she sleeps in my bed every night, and I can't imagine a future where she's not standing next to me."
"Love, huh?"
"Without a doubt, Matei."
He considers this, then nods slowly. "Thank you for all this. The alliance. I know it hinged on you, your word, your support. Enzo and Ares wouldn't have agreed without your backing."
"Your family earned it." I extend my hand again. "We'll be in touch. Once you're settled in California, come visit. Bring your brothers. Let's make this partnership as strong as it can be."
Matei shakes my hand firmly. "Consider it done." His grin returns, that sharp Romanian charm that probably opens as many doors as it closes. "Come to Romania any time, too. What a ride this is going to be."
He releases my hand, reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a pair of designer sunglasses. He slides them on with practiced ease.
"The Ionescus are coming, baby," he says.
And then he walks off, disappearing into the crowd with the swagger of a man who just conquered a continent.
"There you are, mister. Everything alright?" Zaria says, walking up to me.
Her dress flows behind her like liquid gold, the late afternoon sun catching the delicate beadwork along the neckline. She looks like something out of a dream. My dream, specifically. The kind I never let myself have before her.
"Oh yeah, you know. Business."
"Even on your sister's wedding day?" Her eyebrow arches, and there's a teasing edge to her voice.
I shrug, reaching for her waist and pulling her against me. "Every day," I say, and kiss her.
Her lips are soft and warm. When I pull back, her cheeks are flushed, and I can't tell if it's from the kiss or the heat. Probably both.
"Come with me," I say, taking her hand.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quieter. You'll see."
I lead her through the crowd, past tables covered in white linen and crystal, past guests laughing and dancing under the string lights.
We slip through the back entrance of the house, and I guide her through the hallway, past the kitchen where the caterers are working, past the office where I just shook hands with Matei and sealed our future, and toward the stairs.
"Callum, where—"
"Trust me."
We head up the stairs, the ones I've climbed a thousand times, until we reach the balcony overlooking the garden. The noise of the reception fades to a gentle murmur below us, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.
Zaria steps to the railing, gripping it with both hands.
She leans against it, the breeze catching her hair, pulling a few strands loose from the clip holding it back. She doesn't fix it.
The garden stretches beneath us, fairy lights woven through the hedges, guests milling about with champagne flutes, Keira and Octavian at the center of it all, her white gown standing out among the darker suits.
"We came a long way from the basement," I say, moving to stand beside her, our arms touching.
She turns, and her lips curve into a small smile. "I think I like this view better."
I laugh, the sound rough in my throat. "Yeah. So do I."
Below us, my mother dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief while Declan says something that makes Lyra swat his arm. Enzo and Ares stand near the bar, engaged in what looks like a heated debate about something. Matei is surrounded by a few bridesmaids, making moves before he's even left my house.
We stand there in silence, taking in the beautiful day.
"I need to tell you something," she says, turning to me, and I can tell she's nervous.
"What is it?" I ask. "Everything alright?"
She clasps her hands together in front of her, then unclasps them, then clasps them again.
"So," she starts, then stops. Takes a breath. "I've been throwing up every day for like a week now."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"What?" I grip her shoulders gently. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
She looks at me.
Just looks, without speaking.
"What?" I repeat. "I don't know. Do you need to see a doctor?"
Panic claws at my throat. I think of poison, of illness, of all the enemies we've made, of all the ways I could still lose her.
She smiles. The kind of smile that changes everything.
"Maybe an obstetrician," she says.
The word doesn't compute.
"A what?"
"A doctor who specializes in delivering babies."
The floor tilts beneath me. Or maybe that's just my knees giving out. I stumble back a step, my hand finding the railing for support.
"Are you—" I can't finish the sentence. "Are you—"
She nods, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes."
I look down at her now flat stomach.
"I wanted to wait," she continues, the words tumbling out in a rush. "But I got so caught up in the emotions today and I, I just, I'm sorry. My emotions have been all over the place and…" She trails off.
"It's okay," I say, and hug her as she cries happy tears. "Oh my God. I can't believe you're pregnant. I'm going to have a baby with the woman I love!"
She goes still in my arms. Completely and utterly still.
Then she pulls back, staring up at me with wide, wet eyes.
"Wait, what now?" she says, stopping mid-breath.
"Oh. I…"
Shit.
I didn't mean to say it. Not like that. Not for the first time. I thought maybe at a candlelit dinner, or at our cottage one night by the fire in Ireland. Not at my sister's wedding. But the words are out now, hanging in the air between us, and I can't take them back.
I don't want to take them back.
We've danced around it. Shown it in a thousand small ways. But the actual words, those three impossible words, I've kept locked inside, too afraid of what it would mean to release them, as if it would ruin what we have.
"I…" I start.
Her lower lip trembles. "Are you serious, Callum? You're going to make me cry even more."
"Yes." The word comes out steady, certain. More certain than anything I've ever said. "Yes, I am. I love you, Zaria. I love you so much it scares me. I love you in a way I didn't know I was capable of. And now you're telling me you're carrying my child, and I—"
I clear my throat, try again.
"I don't have words for what I'm feeling right now."
She laughs through her tears, a watery, beautiful sound. "Just kiss me already."
I don't hesitate. I pull her close again and kiss her. Not aggressive, but with all the love I can finally show.
I slide one hand down, resting it gently over her stomach. It's still flat, but beneath my palm is the beginning of something I never thought I'd have. A future. A family. A life that isn't built on blood and vengeance.
"My Zaria," I say.
She covers my hand with hers, pressing it tighter against her. "My Callum."
I look past her, toward the garden full of people, with Boston in the distance. Our empire. The one Cormac tried to destroy. It's ours now.
"Looks like our reign has just begun," I say, then look down at her and kiss her.
"I love you, Zaria."
She smiles and kisses me. "I love you too, Callum."