Epilogue #2
"We can't leave yet. We haven't cut the cake."
"Cake is inefficient," he grumbles. "Sugar crash imminent."
"Christie is heading this way," I warn him. "Smile."
The barista from the Cozy Cup bounces up to our table, holding a tray of espresso shots. "Emergency caffeine! I figured you boys would need it if you're pulling a perimeter shift tonight."
"Thanks, Christie," I say, taking a cup. "How's the shop?"
"Oh, you know," she waves a hand. "Mike is grumpy because the grinder is making a weird noise again. And Old Jack is spreading rumors that you two are already pregnant."
Elias chokes on his coffee. "I need to have a word with Jack."
"Let him talk," I say, squeezing Elias's hand. "It gives them something to do besides worry about the Costas."
At the mention of the name, the air around the table chills. Logan steps up, a phone in his hand. He looks grim. The celebration doesn't stop, but the core group of brothers tightens.
"Status?" Elias asks, his voice shifting instantly.
"Radio silence from the east," Logan says quietly. "But I just got a ping from the remote server. The one Daniel set up."
My stomach drops. "Is it him?"
"It's a heartbeat signal," Logan says. "Someone accessed the archive. Used Daniel's old encryption key. But the IP address... it's bouncing. Russia. China. Then here."
"Here?" Elias demands.
"Inside the town limits," Logan says. "Daniel is here. He’s ghosted into our root directory, but he’s left a breadcrumb. A photo of a woman in a chair—bound, gagged, and marked with Gunnar code. He’s not just hiding; he’s hunting. And the next war for the Broken Halos is already inside the gates."
Elias looks at me. The joy of the wedding remains, but his eyes track the perimeter, scanning the shadows. "We're locking down the Vault tonight."
"I thought that was the plan anyway," I say, trying to keep the mood light, though my pulse is racing.
"It was," Elias says. "But now I'm setting the alarm."
He stands up, pulling me with him. He taps his glass with a knife—a sharp, authoritative crack that silences the room.
"Thank you all for coming," Elias barks. "Eat the food. Drink the beer. The bar is open until midnight. My wife and I are leaving."
"Subtle," I whisper.
"Efficient," he counters.
He sweeps me up into his arms, bridal style. The crowd cheers, hooting and catcalling. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder. He smells like everything I love.
"Take me home, Treasurer," I murmur.
"Already there," he says.
He carries me away from the lights and the noise, toward the main building. We pass the communications room on the way to the residential wing. The monitors are glowing in the dark room.
For a second, I think I see a shadow move inside.
"Elias," I say, tensing.
He spins, tracking my gaze. Nothing. Just the blink of the server lights.
"I saw something," I say.
"I'll text Chase to sweep the perimeter," he promises. "But first, I'm claiming what's mine."
He carries me to the reinforced entrance of the Vault—our bedroom, our office, our sanctuary. He sets me down long enough to punch in the code. 3-1-4-1-5. Pi. Infinite. Unending.
The door hisses open. The air inside is cool and filtered. It smells like paper and ozone.
Elias pushes me inside and seals the door behind us. The lock engages with a heavy, final thud that vibrates through the floor. The world outside—the Costas, the Feds, the missing brother—is gone.
It's just us. Just the numbers that matter.
He turns to me, his eyes turning to black slate as they track the way I’m already trembling for him. He stalks toward me, undoing his tie with one hand.
"Seventy-two hours," he says, referencing the time we first spent in here. "That was the deal."
"The deal changed," I remind him, stepping out of my heels. "The audit is finished."
"The audit isn't finished, Mia. I’m going to count every clench of your pussy around my cock. I’m going to track every drop of my seed as it fills you. I’m going to own every tremor."
He hands me the steel pen, his fingers brushing mine with a heat that makes my pussy turn soaked. "Sign the log," he commands. "Check in, Mrs. Gunnar."
I take the pen, my back hitting the cold steel of the table as I look up at my husband.
"Checking in," I whisper, my walls already pulsing for him. "Fill me up, Elias. Permanently."
The End