Epilogue
VICTOR
Five Years Later
C helsea is breathtakingly beautiful as she waltzes inside a fine-dining restaurant. The way her ivory dress hugs her curves should be illegal, a crime to look this good. People can't help but watch as she follows the hostess to a nearby table. She's not sitting alone for long.
The hostess seats a man at her table whose eyes jump around the room. He's not the type to make me nervous, but he's fidgeting too much for my liking. However, I understand his discomfort. Discussing murder in a public space isn't the most comfortable thing to do.
"It's like I said on the phone. I want to schedule an appointment for your, um, firearms and safety class. A private lesson," the man whispers in a hurried tone.
Chelsea nods, sipping her drink. "I have a few openings in my schedule. Purchase the course and I'll be in touch. Thank you for treating me to lunch."
The dismissiveness in her tone, along with a raise of her drink, silently demands that her guest get up and leave. He scurries out of the restaurant, which gives me room to slip into his seat without anyone else paying attention.
"Next time, I'll take a vodka tonic. I don't know what this is." Chelsea swirls the amber liquid in her glass and sets it on the table.
"I'll keep that in mind. I passed my lieutenant's exam. I'm like, twentieth on the list, but I'm on it. I need you to let this private session be the last for a while. I won't have the pull to maneuver around your assignments for a while."
Chelsea leans in, placing her hand on top of mine and rubbing it gently. "We can take a break right now. That last one is too squeamish. He's liable to be a mess that needs cleaning."
I shake my head. "I don't know why you have these meetings face-to-face anyway."
"Because no one ever knows if I'm the one pulling the trigger or blade or if I'm simply a middleman. I need to know what's going to happen after the private session he's paid for. If he needs to become a mess that not only I have to clean up, but you as well. The contract will be canceled."
I nod and smile. "That's perfect because that gives us time."
"Time for what?"
I signal a server to bring on my surprise. They place a bucket of champagne and one of her favorite pastries on the table. My fingers toy with a royal blue velvet box in my pocket, just big enough for the ring I want her to wear forever.
"Time to go on our honeymoon after we get married. That's after you decide to marry me." I offer her a grin, but she playfully tosses a napkin at me.
"If that's your idea of a proposal?—"
I signal for the other part of my surprise, which brings a violinist out to play softly. Everyone turns around to see where the musician will stop. Once she stands beside our table, playing a delicate piece of music, Chelsea's eyes well with tears.
At the sound of the last note, I kneel beside Chelsea as everyone looks on.
"Chelsea Emerson, we've been through life and death together. I may joke about cleaning up your messes, but there's no one else I want by my side on this messy journey of life. I love you. I always have and always will. So will you give me the honor of being my wife? Chelsea Emerson, will you marry me?"
Chelsea's eyes lock onto mine, and without any hesitation, she nods. "Yes, of course, Victor. I love you. I'd love to be your wife."
The room erupts into applause and cheers as I rise to my feet and take Chelsea in my arms. There's no better place for her. She's with me where I can protect her and keep her safe. It doesn't matter what she does. My heart will forever be hers, and I'm the luckiest man alive because of it.
The End
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