Epilogue

EPILOGUE

A year later, the soft jazz tune moans through our new penthouse as I weave through the crowd of guests with Vlad at my side. This place is a labyrinth of glimmering chandeliers, marble floors, too many windows overlooking the Strip, and all the other oddities Vlad thought I'd want in our shared place.

If someone told me a little over twelve months ago that I'd be able to have guests from both our worlds mingle and chat, I'd tell that fool to stop dreaming of the impossible.

Italians and Russians in this city aren't friends.

Turns out Vlad and I are those two fools who made the undoable happen.

Tonight, his people and my people flow seamlessly together. Drinking champagne, eating food, celebrating.

"Look at them, Hot Shot," I whisper at Vlad, nodding toward Ivan, who's deep in conversation with his younger brother Alexander. "You'd think they are best friends."

Vlad only laughs softly. "One day they could be."

"Let me guess. That day is not today."

"Exactly. No one hates Ivan's guts more than my little brother. And don't ask me why. Actually, my brother hates everyone except his boyfriend."

"I hear younger siblings are a nasty kind."

"You'll find out as soon as we tie the knot. He'll be your younger sibling too. Officially. And he'll torture you."

My heart starts racing. Vlad and I have talked about getting married before, although we never got into any details. We just agreed that it would be wonderful—and practical—to share everything. Not just the bed but the assets too. The only problem is deciding whose last name should come first on our paperwork when we combine them.

"We've done well, haven't we?" Vlad murmurs, grabbing another glass of champagne from the waiter passing us with the tray.

"I think so," I reply, raising my own glass. We clink our flutes—a toast to our empire. Yes, sweat and blood were the foundation once, but things are changing. In the next five years, the majority of Morelli businesses will be lawful. Legitimacy has its perks. We are expanding into the tech sector , creating something tangible, something for the next generation.

Yes, there will still be a dark fraction. The deals will be made in the shadows. The bribes will happen too.

Sometimes, the temptation to give it all up is great. But if I do, if I let the cartels control the output and the quality of the drugs in the city, more people will die. It's the price I have to pay for being the heir to my uncle's kingdom. The burden is there, unmistakably heavy. The danger is always lurking in the background. But it's different now that Vlad and I are together. It's double the power. Power to do both. Bad and good. And today is the day we do some good.

"Logan said he and your brother are going to London after this," I supply as I spot Alexander's boyfriend finally returning from the restroom. The man is a former cop, built like a wall and he is filling out that tux like he was born to wear it. With confidence. I'm almost jealous. Lucky for me, I got someone no less impressive by my side. The older Solovey brother.

"Yes," the no-less-impressive man next to me says. "I think they are tired of living in a camper. Will do them some good to visit Sasha's college friends and hit some museums."

"Are you worried?" It's a valid question with Toro now in the wind and La Alianza still being a threat south of the border. But a little less than a year ago, the DEA received several anonymous tips about the whereabouts of the cartel's top lieutenants and now with the law enforcement actively investigating La Alianza's activities, those guys avoid coming to the States.

"He's great at keeping an eye on my bratishka ," Vlad replies while observing Logan rejoin Alexander and Ivan. "I trust him with my brother's life."

I follow his gaze to where Logan stands, one arm protectively wrapped around Alexander's waist. Something about their dynamic feels charged and electric despite the age difference. And I can't tell if it's just me or it's the Solovey thing, the way they love other people—without fear.

"Remember," I whisper, "if you need protection in Europe, I do have family in Italy."

"I'll keep that in mind, Romeo," he whispers back, jutting his chin toward Costa and Viola laughing too loudly near the balcony doors. I'm genuinely glad to see at least one of Tony's kids doing fine—Chiara's bright star amidst a constellation of trouble.

With Salvatore lost somewhere in Brazil and Roberto in prison, my aunt has been able to focus on her daughter. Frankly speaking, Chiara has been spending more time in California with Viola than here in Vegas. I'm thinking of gifting her a condo or a small house in Beverly Hills come her birthday.

"Let's get some air. " Vlad yanks me toward the balcony while we have an opening.

We rush over outside, narrowly avoiding some of his real estate business partners.

There, where we're cut off from the hum of the party and the endless handshakes, he turns to me and runs both palms down my chest as if fixing the lapels of my suit jacket. "I'm proud of the shifts we've made." His voice is a little rougher than usual. His gaze doesn't meet mine at first. "It's changing perceptions. Creating something sustainable. Something that lasts beyond power struggles and bloodshed."

"Are you getting all emotional on me?" I ask, my voice lighter than intended. But my heart swells in my chest.

He glances at the buzzing city sprawling below us. "We're building a legacy, one that aligns with our values rather than our past."

His silence hangs between us. I watch him shift, the tension in his body almost material. Behind those gray eyes lies a depth of emotion, ghosts of all we've fought against.

"Vlad," I begin, but he interrupts me, turning toward the glass doors.

"Look at them. They're celebrating us."

Through the glass, I see the party unfold—a tableau of laughter, clinking glasses, and fleeting moments of joy. But for Vlad, it's not just about the party. It's about the culmination of his journey.

"Peace," he breathes, a note of disbelief coloring his tone. "After all the chaos… I didn't think I'd find it."

"After everything you've done," I say, my heart aching for him, "you deserve it."

"Do I?"

"You chose a different path. No more violence. It means something."

"Maybe that's what makes this special." He finally meets my gaze, and there's relief in his eyes. "Choosing not to succumb to the cycle."

"Sometimes, peace is harder to embrace than vengeance," I say gently, sensing the vulnerability beneath his collected exterior.

He nods slowly, taking a deep breath. "It's strange, isn't it? All these people celebrating our success, yet they don't know the darkness that brought us to this moment."

"Perhaps it's better that way," I suggest. "Let them enjoy the illusion while we navigate the reality."

The balcony door swings open and Ivan clears his throat loudly to let us know he is here. Vlad turns his head to look at him but never removes his hands from my chest. And this small gesture means so much to me because he's finally accepted all parts of himself. Same way I have accepted me.

"Sorry to bother you," Ivan says in his heavily accented English. "Everybody is ready for you, Vladimir."

"Thank you." Vlad takes my hand and gestures at the door. "Let's not leave them waiting."

Inside, where the room is filled with colorful lights, we snake through the sea of dressed up bodies with Ivan skillfully swatting away anyone who tries to shake Vlad's and my hands.

"Speech!" someone yells from the back.

"Speech," another voice adds.

Once we reach the other side of the room where a table with an auction box stands, I nudge Vlad to the center of the forming circle. Faces watch expectantly.

"I thought you were going to do it," he grits out.

"I'm just the boyfriend." I shrug with a smile. "You're the man of the evening."

More people join in on a "speech" chant. Several guests clap, which converge into an acoustic tide that demands attention.

"Alright, alright." Vlad lifts both hands as if reaching for salvation or surrender—it's hard to tell. "I'll say something." He takes a deep breath.

The entire room falls silent.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight," Vlad's voice carries across the room, commanding respect and admiration. "As you've heard, today is not just a celebration of mine and Nico's anniversary but also the launch of our foundation."

A rustle of whispers runs through the crowd.

"We wanted to create something that would make a difference—something that would give back to the city that has given us so much," Vlad continues, glancing at me briefly. "So, without further ado, I'm excited to announce that Marina Foundation for at-risk youth is now official."

He's interrupted by a round of applause.

"Myself and Nico aren't strangers to growing up without parents and we believe that every child, every teenager in this city, has the potential to be great. And our goal is to help these young men and women rise above their circumstances."

Vlad looks at me again, his face strangely emotional, and I know it's my cue to step in, my cue to be the supportive boyfriend. Despite my own pulse so erratic in my ears.

"And we are taking donations," I say, moving to stand next to Vlad.

His hand finds mine. Yes, in front of all these people. Our fingers intertwine.

" Mio Dio! " Viola's shouts. "Kiss already, you two."

And I do. I pull Vlad to me and kiss his lips, announcing us to the world once more. And as the sun behind the windows sinks lower, drenching us in twilight, I know this moment is ours forever. No darkness can touch it. Not tonight. Not ever.

THE END

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