Epilogue
Caterina
I SIT ON a blanket in the shade of the great oak tree that holds court on the rolling lawns of our estate, watching as Vincenzo picks up our three-year-old son, Nico, and tosses him into the air.
He’s getting too big for these games, but Nico loves it and so does my husband, who indulges him every moment he can get.
I’m holding our new daughter, Elena, who is gazing up at me with her father’s big silver eyes. She already has him wrapped around her tiny finger, which is exactly as it should be.
It’s been five years since we left Sicily.
Vincenzo and I brought the families to heel and made them agree to a truce.
Then we did some succession planning. We both wanted to get away from the never-ending arguments and petty disagreements of the families, go somewhere safe to raise children together.
But Vincenzo needed to be sure that the Argenti legacy he fought for would remain, and so he called the wider Argenti family to a meeting, informing them that while he would remain as head of the family, he would need someone to act for him in Italy.
He found someone—a distant cousin—who will act on his behalf, while he keeps an eye on the Argentis from a distance. We now live in England, in a beautiful country estate in the Cotswolds, which suits us perfectly.
Vincenzo arranged himself a new identity to protect us from any unwanted family attention and now goes by the name of Vincent Castle. I call him Vinny, just to annoy him.
My Wolf comes over to where I’m sitting with our son tucked under his arm. He puts Nico down and then sits beside me, looking down at our daughter, his silver eyes alight with love.
‘I had a thought,’ he says, reaching down to touch Elena’s cheek with a gentle finger.
‘Just the one?’ I ask, teasing him.
‘Naughty, gattina,’ he says. ‘No, I’m being serious. I’ve decided that the Argenti legacy was never about stopping the violence, or at least, not entirely.’
‘Oh?’
He smiles and my heart skips a beat the way it always does when I look at him. ‘No, the true Argenti legacy was always supposed to be love.’
I look at him and our children, and I know that of course my wolf is right. He was always right.
The true Argenti legacy is love and it starts with us.