Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Six months later
Zane
M y gaze follows Stella as she walks through the glass doors of the ballroom and into the garden.
I’ve put this off for as long as I’ve been able, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t let us keep building our lives on a false foundation. It will only hurt more when it crumbles.
The jet’s ready to fly me somewhere. Anywhere. I can’t be here after I tell her, and I’ll be too heartsick, too miserable, to care I’m on a plane without her.
I don’t hear the sounds of our reception, the music playing, our guests chatting.
Zarah’s sitting in her husband’s lap, laughing at something his mother said, his arms tight around her. Gage never asked Zarah to accept his mother into our family, but she did, knowing it wasn’t Delilah’s fault her husband was a monster. Gage didn’t admit it, but I think it meant a lot to him that he didn’t have to cut his mother out of his life. But he would have. For my sister.
Linc and Lucille are sitting at their table, talking to Brad and Monica.
I’m glad Stella will have them.
Quinn and her wife are dancing near Stella’s sister and brother-in-law.
Douglas is standing near the ballroom doors, watching over everyone, including Ariel, Stella’s niece, who’s sitting at his feet, ignoring a coloring book and pile of crayons. She’d rather pet Baby.
Stella will have plenty of people supporting her, including Willow, who’s leaning against the bar holding a glass of champagne. Stella and Zarah wanted to invite her, and she’s become a part of our circle of friends.
She nods and lifts a corner of her mouth in sympathy. I think, though I don’t know how she could, she knows what I’m going to do.
I tip my head in return.
I’ve always said I can’t live without Stella. I wonder how long I’ll last.
It will be easier knowing my sister’s settled.
To give up, I mean.
I walk across the ballroom, accepting congratulations that aren’t mine. I’ve fucked everything up, only this time Stella won’t be able to forgive me.
She’s standing in the garden near a tree, her hair pinned into a low bun at the back of her head, her cream silk dress glimmering in the light pollution. She looks sophisticated, elegant. My queen, like I promised so long ago.
But you know I’ve been shit at keeping my promises. This is no different.
“Stella,” I say, walking across the garden, the scent of the flowers too sweet. I’m glad we’re alone. I couldn’t bear to have any witnesses.
She looks over her shoulder, her bright blue eyes sparkling, though a little tired. It’s late, and the reception will be ending soon. I waited as long as could, eked out as much happiness as I could.
“Hi,” she says. “You caught me. I’m sorry I disappeared. The crowd gets to be too much. Are you okay?”
She always knows when something is bothering me.
“No, I’m not. I have to tell you something.”
Her hand flutters to her throat and the diamond necklace I fastened there earlier this evening. “Is it bad? It’s bad. What’s wrong?”
We haven’t quite shaken off what the Blacks did to us, always alert, wary, ready for the next threat.
I twist the rings on her finger. No matter how often I offer to buy her a different diamond, she insists she wants to keep the one I gave her at the penthouse. We were only kids, high on love and grandeur this would work out.
Dropping her hand, I resist the urge to slide them off her finger. They don’t belong there, that little diamond and the wedding band I put on her finger the evening we married at the courthouse.
“You know I believed the stories about you and Cardello,” I start. There’s not going to be an easy way to say what I have to say.
“Yeah, I know,” she whispers.
I tuck my hands into my pockets and stare at the ground. Talking about that time in our lives always shames me. That Stella was a prisoner at Black Enterprises for five years because I didn’t believe in her, didn’t believe she loved me enough to stay and not let an Italian prince lure her away.
It shames me that I didn’t fight.
I deserve tonight and all the years that will follow.
“I hated you, Stella. I hated you as much as I loved you, and I knew the second you surfaced in King’s Crossing. I had snitches and gossips and druggies and hookers all watching out for you, and I knew. I wanted to punish you. I despised you, loathed you. You broke my heart and and I wanted to break you, too.”
I flick at glance at her, and her skin’s as pale as her dress.
Get it done.
“I hired someone to kill you. I wanted to pay you back for every year I lived in agony and despair because I thought you wanted a crown more than you wanted me.”
A tear runs down her cheek.
“Hal was good at his job. I paid him hundreds of thousands of dollars to be good at his job.”
Her lips tremble. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.” I lift a shoulder. “Nothing. Ash was already after you. I didn’t know it was him—I thought perhaps Cardello had a vendetta—but Hal backed out. He said he didn’t compete for marks, that if I was patient enough, your death would be free.”
She wipes her face, her hands shaking.
“He was curious why you would risk your life to try to see me, and it was his idea that I find you and ask what you wanted. That’s why I told you to meet me at your apartment. But instead of listening to you, I raped you—”
“No—”
I fling out my arms. “Jesus Christ, Stella, just fucking call it like it was. Quinn had just been shot. Fucking me was the last thing on your mind. I raped you, and then told you to get out of my life when I was done. You have no idea how much guilt and shame I feel every day because I treated you that way.”
“You forget I loved you, too,” she says, her voice so low and sad. “I’d spent five years alone, without human touch, unless Ash hit me. I was so lonely, and suddenly you were there, the man I loved more than anything. It didn’t matter you hurt me. I wanted to be close to you.”
“Do you really think that makes it better? I’m just a bigger son of a bitch. The divorce papers are in the manager’s office. Sign them, and go. Wherever you want. To New York with Quinn, to Florida to be with your mom and dad. Just go.” My voice cracks and tears run down my face.
“Have you signed them?”
I can’t resist touching her, and I brush my fingers over her cheek. “No. I’m going to have to be very very drunk when I sign them.”
“All right.” She stares at the cobblestone path that leads deeper into the garden.
I step toward the ballroom.
“You’ll let him win, then,” she says to my back.
I stiffen. I wish she would just let me go. “Who?”
“Ash. You’ll let him win.”
I turn around. “This has nothing to do with Ash.”
Stella’s face dried and determination sets her features.
“It doesn’t? We aren’t the same people we were then. Why did you hate me? Because Ash led you to believe I’d run away. He locked Zarah up and you were mourning her. Ash stole that innocent boy I loved and turned him into a bitter man. You never would have hired someone to kill me if it hadn’t been for Ash and his father and what they did to you.”
I hate listening to her defend me. “Stella—”
“Ash changed me, too.” She steps across the grass and stones and lifts a hand to my wet cheek. “I thought you killed Maryanne and the afternoon Mel brought me to your office, I hated you just as much as you hated me. I would have killed you, too, if I could have. I had never hurt someone the way I hurt you that day. I marred this beautiful face, and I have never done anything like that to anyone since.”
I grab her wrist and squeeze. “It’s not the same.”
“Maybe it’s not, if we’re weighing the seriousness of our crimes, but I’m not the same woman I was in your office the day I hurt you. You’re not the same man who hired Hal to kill me. Ash turned us into different people, but we loved each other enough to find our way back to who we were when we first fell in love.”
I loosen my grip on her arm. I want to believe what she’s saying.
“If you don’t love me anymore, then I’ll sign the papers. But I won’t sign them if this is a sick punishment you’ve devised for yourself. All you’ll do is let Ash keep winning, and we’re long past that, Zane, and you know we are.”
Humbled, I fall to my knees. “I am so sorry.”
She adjusts her dress and kneels, too. “We’re both sorry for a lot of things, but we’ll never let the past go if we can’t move on.” She lifts my hand and slides the ring off my finger. She offers me her left hand and I do the same. Holding our rings in her palm, she says, “Tonight we’ll start over. We won’t have a past, only a future. What do you think?”
“I think I’m a lucky bastard.” I sigh.
Laughing, Stella throws our rings into a flower bed. “Does that make me a lucky bitch?”
I wince. “I could never call you that.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hug her tightly, savoring her scent, the softness of her skin, the beat of her heart. “Then maybe just lucky,” she murmurs.
“Yeah, I can agree with that.” I hold her, reluctant to let her go, but eventually, I help her stand. I should have known Stella wouldn’t let me walk away. I should have known she would protect our love no matter what. “The jet’s ready. Let’s go somewhere.”
She shakes her head and narrows her eyes. She knows why the jet’s fueled and waiting, and it wasn’t to fly off on a spur-of-the-moment honeymoon. “Where should we go?”
I twirl her around, and her skirt flies. “I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?”
Giggling, she stops, and dizzy, she staggers into my arms. “Let’s let the pilot decide.”
“Perfect.” I look into her eyes, her beauty stealing my breath. She’s mine, and I’ll never take her for granted. I can’t. All I have is because of her. “I love you, Stella.”
“I love you, too. Since the day Zarah visited payroll.”
“We should thank her.” I sweep my bride off her feet, and I carry her back into the ballroom.
It’s time to say our goodbyes.