Epilogue
Celia
Six weeks after the night that had nearly cost me my life, I stood on the courthouse steps, breathing in the dry Vegas air. Inside, the grand jury had just handed down indictments against Tommy Lace, Enzo Grimaldi, Gianna Bianchi, and seven other members of the Licata network. The headline splashed across the Review-Journal in my hand was unambiguous: " LICATA CRIME SYNDICATE DISMANTLED ."
My testimony had taken less than an hour—a clinical recounting of ledgers discovered, threats received, and a knife held to my throat. What the transcript couldn't capture was how it felt to reclaim my name in that witness box. Not Nova Sinclair, magician's assistant. Not the anonymous paralegal hiding in the footnotes of case files. Just Celia Marshall, speaking her truth.
Miles had offered me my old position back at Bailey & Finch, with a promotion and a corner office with a view of the Strip. "You've earned it," he'd said, pride evident in his voice. I'd promised to think about it.
The truth was, I didn't know if I wanted to go back. The woman who had disappeared into the Jade Petal casino wasn't the same one who emerged from it. My time as Nova had changed me—not just my burgundy-highlighted hair or the confidence in my stride, but something deeper. The realization that I could be more than one version of myself.
I descended the courthouse steps, smoothing the fabric of my ruby wrap dress against my skin. The silk felt cool and luxurious, the color bolder than anything I would have worn before, but the cut was professional, sophisticated. At my ears, small rhinestone studs caught the afternoon sun—a subtle nod to the sequins and glitter of my stage days. Not the extravagant costume pieces Val had adorned me with, but not the understated studs I'd worn at the law firm either. Balance. That's what I was finding.
At the bottom of the steps, a familiar figure leaned against a vintage motorcycle, arms crossed over his chest. Roman Kane looked nothing like the casino dealer I'd first met. Gone were the tailored vests and the careful charm. Instead, he wore dark jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a well-worn leather jacket with a faint scent of motor oil. His hair was longer now, less controlled. More real.
"Fancy meeting you here, counselor," he called, a half-smile playing across his lips.
"I'm not a lawyer," I reminded him, unable to keep the answering smile from my face.
"Not yet." His confidence in me was still something I was getting used to. "How'd it go in there?"
"The DA says it's airtight. Between my testimony and the evidence your team seized, the Licatas are finished in Vegas."
Roman nodded, satisfaction evident in his expression. He'd been reinstated to the detective bureau with commendations, though I knew the transition back to his real identity hadn't been seamless. Some nights I still caught him scanning exit points in restaurants, cataloging faces in crowds—the hypervigilance of undercover work not easily abandoned.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching into his jacket. He withdrew an envelope and handed it to me. "Six months late, but better than never."
Inside were two plane tickets to Maui, departure scheduled for next week. The cream-colored paper felt substantial between my fingers—real tickets, not the fiction Miles had created to cover my disappearance.
"This time, it's real," he said, watching my reaction closely.
The thoughtfulness of the gesture caught me off guard. After everything, Roman understood that I'd never actually taken the Hawaiian vacation that had been my public alibi.
"How did you know I'd be free?" I asked, though I was already mentally packing my suitcase.
"I talked to Miles. He said the firm could spare you for two weeks." Roman stepped closer, his hand finding mine. "Though he mentioned something about expecting a decision on that job offer when you get back."
I hadn't told Roman about Miles's promotion offer—but of course he knew. Detective instincts never fully switched off.
"I'm still thinking about it," I admitted. "I might want something... different."
"Different is underrated," he murmured, his free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was tender, intimate. "I happen to like different."
The past six weeks had been a careful dance between us—dinner dates, long conversations on his apartment balcony overlooking the distant mountains, and a gradually deepening trust that felt more solid than the instant chemistry that had first drawn us together. We were learning each other, for real this time. No cover stories, no hidden agendas.
"So what do you say?" Roman asked, a rare vulnerability in his amber eyes. "Ready for a proper vacation? Just Roman and Celia, no one else?"
In answer, I rose on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. The kiss was gentle at first, then deepened with a familiar heat that had lost none of its power. When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, I nodded. "I'd like that."
He grinned, the genuine expression transforming his face. "Good. Because this bike isn't just for show." He patted the vintage Triumph Bonneville beside him. The '69 model had been restored to gleaming perfection, its chrome catching the late afternoon light. The engine rumbled to life with a low, powerful growl when he turned the key.
"Dinner at my place tonight?" he asked, swinging his leg over the seat.
"I'll bring dessert," I promised, stepping back as the engine roared to life.
As Roman pulled away, my phone buzzed with a news alert. brEAKING: Onyx Hotel Fire Investigation Suggests Arson, Ties to Jade Petal Casino.
I shook my head, pocketing the phone. Whatever new mysteries Vegas was cooking up could wait until after Hawaii. I'd earned this moment of peace.
The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the mountains, painting the Strip in gold and amber. The air cooled as shadows lengthened across the courthouse plaza. In a few hours, the neon would come alive, and the city would transform once again. I used to fear that transformation—the darkness and what it might hide.
Now, I smiled into the fading light, feeling the warmth on my face. I used to run from the dark—now I chase the sunrise beside the only man who sees every side of me.
And all of them are finally free.