Epilogue – Cyril
Ren’s laugh echoes across the beach like it owns the damn sky.
Ren runs barefoot through the surf, hair flying wild, arms out like he’s going to lift off with the birds. The ocean curls around his ankles, the sun painting his face gold. He’s yelling something about a crab, maybe two, but I’m too far back to catch it all. It doesn’t matter. He’s happy. And when you’ve seen your kid curled up in a corner screaming for a dead man to leave him alone, this? This kind of happiness? It’s fucking sacred.
Enya lounges in a chair near the deck, that old paperback she keeps trying to finish open on her lap. She’s wearing this breezy white dress, her legs stretched out, one foot half-buried in the sand. That silver locket still rests against her collarbone, glinting every time she moves. Her eyes are on Ren, but I see her glance toward me when she thinks I’m not looking. Soft smile. Sunlight in her eyes. That look like she still can’t quite believe this is our life now.
I step out onto the deck, barefoot, shirtless, tan as hell. I feel…fucking good. Free.
I sink into the chair beside her, let my eyes fall to where Ren’s chasing another wave.
“He sleeps through the night now,” Enya says.
“So do I,” I answer.
She laughs. That quiet, breathy laugh that always hits me square in the chest.
“That’s a first.”
She reaches over and laces her fingers through mine. No need for big words. No fireworks. Just this. Her hand in mine. Our kid screaming about seashells. The ocean alive and endless in front of us.
It’s everything.
A full year later, and that day still haunts me like it happened this morning. I think about it every single fucking day—how close we came to losing it all. Enya on the ground, bleeding out. Ren trapped in some Fiore nightmare. My finger on the trigger, and Kai’s body falling.
After that, taking down the Fiores was almost…easy. Without Kai pulling strings and whispering poison, Marco Fiore’s network fractured fast. Alvise moved like a damn ghost through their fronts, warehouse by warehouse, shell company by shell company. We didn’t just burn their legacy down. We rewrote the last chapter.
I didn’t even have to give the final order.
They collapsed under their own weight.
And just like that, the Don I’d been all my life started to fade.
The war ended quietly. But in this life? The quiet ones are the ones you feel in your bones.
Ren bounds up the stairs, wet and beaming, clutching a cracked seashell like it’s a crown jewel.
“I’m gonna paint it for our wall!” he announces.
Enya leans forward, brushing sand from his cheek. “It’s perfect.”
He holds it up to me like an offering. “Will you always be here?”
I look him in the eyes, drop to my knees, and press a kiss to the top of his salty head.
“Yes,” I say. “We’re not going anywhere.”
He grins and bolts toward the little table on the deck, already digging for his paintbrushes. Enya watches him go, then glances at me.
Her free hand rests on her stomach for a second, and I swear my heart stops. I smile at her and kiss her on the temple, then her belly.
“She’s going to be the most spoiled girl in the world,” Enya whispers.
“She?” My eyes widen.
“I have a feeling,” she says with a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Whatever it is, I’m ready.” I return her smile, pride blooming in my chest.
We FaceTime Daiki once a week. He calls it ‘checking in,’ but it’s really just him staring at his grandson like he’s seeing ghosts. I think it heals his heart every time Ren says, “Nonno” and shows off a new drawing. I think it heals mine, too.
I still keep a gun under the bed. I still check the locks twice. I still see shadows in places I shouldn’t.
But Enya brings the light.
And Ren? He carries it.
We aren’t just survivors of the dark. We built something in spite of it.
The sun’s starting to dip, casting fire across the ocean. Enya closes her book. I take her hand. Ren runs ahead, squealing with laughter, and we follow, feet sinking into warm sand, the surf kissing our ankles.
We walk straight into the water, all three of us, barefoot and laughing.
Behind us, the sun sets over the Pacific.
No shadows.
Just light.