Epilogue
IRINA
O ne Year Later.
I’d never get used to this.
It wasn’t because of the blaring sound of the crowd or the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
It was Luca purposefully letting himself get hit to rile up the crowd in his favor. Only this time, he’d taken it too far.
I widened the rope and slipped through the ring, my gaze narrowing on Luca, who smiled at me with bloodied teeth.
“Fiancée!” he called out, coming down from a bloodthirsty high with the way his eyes were glossed over.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I reached him and grabbed his face, anger rippling off me as I assessed the cuts. “What the hell is wrong with you, Luca Canaveri?”
He circled my waist, pulled me to him and planted his lips on mine before the audience erupted into a deafening volume.
“Nothing that you can’t handle, Irina Canaveri,” he whispered against my mouth.
Oh, he was good .
“You never let them hit you more than twice.” I pushed back the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead.
“You should see the other guy,” he mused as he stood up and towered over me. “You’re adorable when you pout, sweetheart.” He nudged under my chin and signaled toward the back.
I irritably followed him but at least there hadn’t been random women waiting for him in his locker room since the last time.
When he’d shut the door behind us, I laid out the supplies I needed to clean his wounds.
Luca knew how to do it himself but if it was up to him, he’d slap a Band-Aid over it and call it a day.
He sat on the bench, wiping the sweat off his torso before throwing the towel aside. “My sister once asked me who takes care of me.”
I paused my movements, turning to glance at him.
“I had always been the one to care for her after my mother died so one night she asked me, ‘and who takes care of you, Luca?’”
My heart clenched tightly at the tenseness of his tone. I knew he had been close to his mother and with her gone, he felt like he had no one.
As I worked on the cut above his brow, he continued. “It wasn’t until I met you that I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let someone in.”
I could feel his eyes on me as I worked on his cheekbone, savoring his words and understanding them.
Luca had always been there to stitch my wounds, internally and externally. And I would spend the rest of my life doing the same for him.
He had read me like an open book that very first night in the museum. He believed in us before I ever did and even though it nearly killed us, I would do it all over again if it meant he’d be mine each time.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before patching his last cut.
Once I finished, he grabbed my waist and pulled me down onto his lap, his thick thigh flexing beneath me.
I tilted my head, searching his caramel eyes and feeling myself fall more in love with him.
In the confined space of my heart, it was just us two, nothing more and nothing less.
“You thought right.” I kissed his chest—where not only his but my heart resided—expressing everything I needed to. “I’m yours in every lifetime, Luca. Thank you for letting me see all of you.”
The sounds of laughter erupted throughout Enzo’s house, and I basked in it.
With everyone preoccupied with their own lives, I’d missed our family gatherings.
Even Nicolai was here. Although, he’d become broodier with each visit, I hoped the Bratva didn’t change him for the worse.
Highly unlikely.
“Dinner will be ready shortly,” Aurora said, joining us in the living room. She’d been insistent on cooking tonight, told us Gianna taught her a new pasta recipe. “Enzo, go get Sof. I’ve no idea what’s taking her so long to come down.”
Aro squealed and clapped his little hands at the sight of his mother before waddling toward her. Roman held him upright, smiling at his attempt to walk.
Their little family made my heart melt.
“You’re staring too hard.”
I turned my head to the left where my soon to be husband leaned against the armrest and pinned me in place with his heated gaze.
“At your best friend?” I teased, biting my lip as his eyes darkened. “I don’t know, he’s kind of. . . ”
My sentence ended on a gasp as he pulled me by the throat, my face mere inches from him. “What was that, sweetheart?”
My pulse spiked at his public display. “Luca. . . ”
“I’ll mark you right here if you need a reminder that you’re mine and mine alone.”
And he would do good on his threat despite our audience.
A smile split across my face at his unwarranted jealously. It was almost too easy riling him up.
I put my left hand up between us, showing him the ring he’d put on my finger a year ago. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“When it comes to you, I’ll always want more,” he rasped out, brushing his lips against mine. “You are the scar that’s engraved into my soul, piccola ribelle , so even in death, I’ll feel your presence.”
The meaning behind his words drifted down my skin in a soft caress until my throat thickened with emotion.
He’d shown me that my scars weren’t something to hide or be burdened by. I’d always found his beautiful, and he had proved to me that mine were too.
“Have I told you how maddeningly in love I am with you?”
His grin was sinful as he nudged under my chin. “Couldn’t hurt to remind me.”
Brute.
“I love you,” I said, stroking his jaw. He leaned into my touch, his expression conveying all the ways he’d reciprocated that feeling, “So much that some days it feels like I can’t breathe.”
“Ya tebya lyublyu.” And this time, he stole my next breath, not only by capturing my lips in an all-consuming kiss but the Russian that rolled off his tongue.
I melted against him, almost forgetting we weren’t alone until an ear-piercing scream echoed against the walls.
We pulled away, the abrupt sound bringing us to our feet along with everyone else.
My heart raced as we stared at one another, the air still with cold anticipation.
“Enzo. . . ” Aurora breathed, her face turning pale.