42. Aurelia
AURELIA
Dr. Hayes is signing discharge papers when Cassian walks in looking like he hasn’t slept in days. His clothes are clean but rumpled, there’s a cut above his eyebrow that wasn’t there yesterday, and his knuckles are bruised like he’s been hitting things. Or people. Probably people.
He sees me noticing and offers a tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry I’m late. Had some stuff to take care of.”
Stuff. Right. I know exactly what kind of stuff he’s been handling for the last six weeks while I’ve been recovering in this facility.
Dr. Hayes doesn’t seem to notice or care about Cassian’s appearance, just continues reviewing my discharge instructions like she’s done this a hundred times before.
Keep the incisions clean, physical therapy twice a week, no heavy lifting for another month, return immediately if any symptoms worsen.
I’m barely listening because Cassian’s moved to stand beside my bed and I can smell gunpowder underneath his cologne.
“You’ve been busy,” I say quietly.
“Making sure our family stays safe.”
Our family. Not just the boys. Not just me. All of us together.
“How many?” I ask.
“Does it matter?”
“No. I just want to know if it’s finished.”
“It’s finished. The Petrovs don’t exist anymore as an organization, and every other family in the city knows what happens if they come after us.”
Dr. Hayes finishes her paperwork and hands me copies of everything along with prescriptions for pain medication I’ll probably need for another few weeks. She tells me to take it easy, listen to my body, don’t push too hard too fast.
Then she leaves and we’re alone.
Cassian sits on the edge of my bed, careful not to jostle me even though I’m healing well enough now that small movements don’t send pain shooting through my ribs anymore.
“You eliminated all of them,” I say. Not a question.
“Yes.”
“And you’re okay with that? With what you had to do?”
“I’m okay with keeping you and the boys safe. Whatever that requires.” He reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “They tortured you because you wouldn’t give them my name, and I made sure no one will ever do that again.”
His voice is steady but I can see the exhaustion in every line of his face, the weight of what he’s been carrying while I’ve been in this bed recovering. He’s been fighting a war while pretending everything was fine whenever he sat in that chair beside me.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. “For ending it. For making sure we’re safe.”
“You don’t have to thank me for protecting my family.”
My family. He keeps saying it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like we’ve always been this instead of two people who met on a plane six years ago and have been fighting our way toward each other ever since.
A nurse brings a wheelchair even though I insist I can walk. Hospital policy apparently, and Dr. Hayes isn’t budging on the rules even though I’ve been walking to the bathroom by myself for over a week now.
Cassian helps me into the chair with gentle hands that were probably breaking bones a few hours ago, and the contrast between the violence he’s capable of and how careful he is with me makes my chest tight.
We take the elevator down to the parking garage where Declan’s waiting with one of the black SUVs that all of Cassian’s people seem to drive. He nods at me, asks how I’m feeling, then gets behind the wheel without waiting for much of an answer.
I’m in the back seat with Cassian beside me, his hand still holding mine like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. We’ve been like this for weeks now—him refusing to leave my side, me letting him stay because being alone means the nightmares are worse.
“The boys don’t know what happened,” Cassian says as we pull out of the garage. “Julian and Nadia told them you were hurt and needed time to heal, but nothing about the Petrovs or why you were taken.”
“Good. They don’t need to know that yet, maybe not ever.”
“They’ve been asking when you’re coming home every single day. Nadia’s been bringing them to visit but it’s not the same as having you there.”
Guilt twists in my stomach even though I know this wasn’t my fault. “How long has it been since you’ve actually slept in a bed instead of that chair?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Cassian.”
“I’m fine. You’re the one who was tortured, not me.”
“You’re exhausted. I can see it.”
He doesn’t argue, just leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes while still holding my hand. Within minutes his breathing evens out and he’s asleep, still sitting upright but finally resting.
Declan catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “He hasn’t stopped moving since we got you out. Taking care of you, eliminating threats, coordinating with Julian’s people. Man needs a vacation.”
“Will he take one?”
“Not until he’s sure you’re completely safe and healed. You know how he is.”
I do know. Stubborn and protective and willing to burn down the entire city if it means keeping his family safe. Our family.
We pull up to the Vance estate forty minutes later and Cassian wakes up immediately like he’s got some internal alarm that tells him when we’ve arrived. His eyes find mine first, checking to make sure I’m okay before he even registers where we are.
“We’re home,” I tell him.
Home. Not the medical facility where I’ve been for six weeks, not the safe house in Ireland where I spent five years hiding, but here at the estate where Julian and Nadia have been taking care of my sons while I recovered.
Where my family is.
Nadia must have been watching for us because she opens the front door before we even make it up the steps, and behind her I can see two small figures trying to push past her legs to get outside.
“Mam’s home!” Finn shouts, loud enough that the neighbors three houses down probably heard him.
Liam’s quieter but just as eager, finally managing to squeeze past Nadia and run down the steps toward us. Finn’s right behind him and suddenly I’m surrounded by my boys, both of them trying to hug me at once while being careful not to hurt me.
“Easy,” Cassian says, hands on their shoulders. “Your mam’s still healing. Gentle hugs only.”
They adjust immediately, wrapping their arms around my waist instead of jumping on me like they usually would. Finn’s talking a mile a minute about everything I missed while Liam just holds on tight and doesn’t say anything at all.
We make it inside and the boys give me a tour of the house like I haven’t been living here for months already.
They show me the welcome home fort they built in the sitting room, the drawings they made that are now covering my bedroom walls, the cookies Nadia helped them bake this morning that are only slightly burnt around the edges.
Cassian stays close but lets the boys take over, just watching with a soft expression that makes him look younger than the man who’s been systematically eliminating an entire criminal organization for the last six weeks.
Julian appears around dinnertime, having given us space to settle in before making his presence known. He hugs me carefully and tells me I look better than I did last time he visited the facility, which isn’t saying much considering I could barely sit up on my own back then.
“Can we talk?” he asks. “You, me, and Cassian. After the boys are in bed.”
I glance at Cassian, who nods once. “Sure. Your study?”
“I’ll have Nadia bring coffee.”
Dinner is chaotic in the best way—Finn talking over everyone, Liam stealing food off Finn’s plate when he’s not looking, Nadia refereeing while Julian watches all of us with an expression I can’t quite read.
After the boys are bathed and in bed with Cassian reading them their bedtime story because they insisted Da had to do it tonight, Julian leads me to his study and closes the door.
Nadia’s already there with coffee, and Cassian joins us a few minutes later looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in weeks.
“They’re asleep,” he says, taking the chair beside mine. “Finn lasted about five pages before he was out.”
Julian doesn’t waste time with small talk, just gets straight to the point like he always does. “I’ve been watching you two. Seeing how you are together, how you are with the boys. What you did to get her back,” he says, looking at Cassian. “How you’ve cared for her since.”
“She’s the mother of my children,” Cassian says simply. “Of course I’d do anything to get her back.”
“It’s more than that and we both know it. You love her.” Julian looks at me. “And you love him. The boys call him Da without hesitation, and you let Cassian move into my house without asking permission because having him here feels right.”
I don’t deny it, because he’s right. Cassian’s been staying in the guest room but spending all his time with me and the boys, and it feels natural now. Like he’s always been part of this family instead of someone who fought his way in.
“I’m proposing an alliance,” Julian continues. “Formal partnership between the Vance and Rourke families. Business operations, territory agreements, combined resources. Everything official and recognized by the other families in the city.”
Cassian and I exchange glances. We both know what this means—legitimizing our relationship in the eyes of both our organizations, making the family we’re building recognized and protected.
“Why?” Cassian asks. “You’ve made it clear you don’t particularly like me.”
“I don’t have to like you to recognize reality.
You and my sister share children, you clearly love each other, and keeping our families at odds serves no purpose when you’re raising my nephews together.
” Julian leans back in his chair. “Besides, you proved yourself when you got her back. The assault on that warehouse, the systematic elimination of every Petrov who stood against us—that’s the kind of ruthless efficiency I can respect. ”
“What do you get out of this?” I ask. “Besides keeping peace between our families.”
“Stability. Reduced violence. A powerful ally in transitioning the Vance operations toward legitimate business. Cassian’s already made connections I don’t have, and combining our resources makes both families stronger.
” He looks at Cassian directly. “And I want my nephews to grow up with both parents without worrying about territorial conflicts tearing their family apart.”
Cassian’s hand finds mine. “What do you think?”
I think about the boys upstairs, about the life we’re building, about finally having my brother’s support instead of his suspicion. “I think it makes sense. For all of us.”
“Then we’re agreed,” Julian says. “I’ll have lawyers draft the formal documents, but the alliance starts now. Vance and Rourke families working together instead of maintaining cold standoffs.”
He stands and extends his hand to Cassian. They shake, and I can see something shift between them—not quite friendship, but mutual respect and understanding.
Nadia hugs me again before they leave us alone in the study. “I’m glad you’re home. The boys need you, and so does he,” she says, tilting her head toward Cassian.
When they’re gone, Cassian pulls me close and I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong.
“Your brother just gave us his blessing,” he says quietly. “Made this real in ways that matter to both our families.”
“Are you okay with that? With being officially tied to the Vances?”
“I’m okay with anything that keeps us together. You, me, and the boys. That’s all that matters.”
I tilt my head up and kiss him, grateful to my brother for protecting our future, grateful for this man who fought a war to get me back, grateful for the family we’re building despite everything that tried to tear us apart.