Epilogue UMBṚELLA KEPT
Three Months Later
The coffee machine at Arcana & Bloom sputters, joining the soft rain tapping the awning outside.
Cece meows as she sits atop a cat perch overlooking the street. She’s become a shared pet—staying in the shop for most of the week and coming home with me on the weekends. At first, I thought she’d hate it, but surprisingly—or not—she enjoys ruling over another territory.
“Ah, shit,” Scarlett mutters, a frown creasing her forehead. She shakes the machine like it insulted her mother. Her thick red hair is twisted into a messy bun. “Why doesn’t the instruction manual ever tell you what to do when this happens?”
“You know my answer.” I smile into my cup containing her latest concoction.
The Blooming Heart.
Rose petals drift along the scarlet surface, the sweet floral scent mixing with the tart pomegranate juice and a hint of rich chocolate.
Whack!
The machine purrs back to life.
“Seriously? Really?” Scarlett snorts and shakes her head.
“Works every time,” I tease, glancing at the cuckoo clock hammered to the wall—her newest prized treasure, a rare find, according to her.
Five minutes to ten.
My pulse flutters. Ren will pick me up soon to meet Elias for our date to celebrate our second marriage. We skipped the ceremony and went straight to the courthouse last week to re-register.
My overbearing husband still insists on a Syndicate escort anytime he’s tied up with business.
“That smile on your face, ugh.” Scarlett leans over the counter, laughter shining in her green eyes. “And to think how sad you looked when you first walked in. Married to a mobster, scared—”
“I told you the scary ones have the best stories.”
Aria slides onto the stool next to me.
My heart squeezes painfully.
She looks like she’s lost half her body weight. Dark circles rim her eyes. Her dark hair resembles a bird’s nest. Her blue scrubs are wrinkled and stained.
She hasn’t been sleeping. Or eating.
She hasn’t been taking care of herself.
Blake would be crushed if he saw her like this.
“Aria,” I wrap her in my arms, “I’m worried about you. You can’t keep pulling these hours at the hospital. You need to rest—”
“I’ll go crazy if I rest!”
She jerks back too fast, swiping at her wet cheeks.
Her bloodshot eyes meet mine, a ragged exhale escaping her lips. “I-I’m sorry. A tough day at work. Lost a patient. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” I squeeze her hands. “Don’t apologize. Grief takes time. All forms of it.”
Scarlett and I exchange a look. She gently hands Aria a mug—something fragrant and soothing, I’m sure.
“If you need to talk—” Scarlett begins.
“I’m fine.” Aria strains a smile. She rummages through her purse. “I’m a medical professional. Trust me, I know when to get help.”
The bell over the door rings.
Ren strides in, footsteps silent and lethal.
Black half-mask. Black leather jacket. Black gloves. Black hair draped over his eyes. He’s recovering well, although he’s quieter than usual.
Ren’s steps falter when he spots Aria.
She looks up.
For a moment, time stands still.
Pain crosses his dark eyes. A sharp hitch of breath. His hand trembles, slowly rising to his chest, over his sternum.
He curls his other hand into a fist at his side.
Aria slides off the stool, seemingly oblivious to the strange tension crackling through the air. She barely seems aware of her surroundings lately, a raft lost at sea after Blake died.
“I can’t find my badge,” she mutters. “Must’ve left it at work. I have to go back for it. Or report it missing.”
Without waiting for a response, she brushes past a shell-shocked Ren—straight into the early summer rain.
She doesn’t even have an umbrella or a jacket. Only grief.
“I’m going after her—” I tell Scarlett, grabbing my trusty red umbrella.
But when I turn back—
Ren’s gone.
A black blur darts past the window, sprinting into the rain with a dark umbrella in hand.
And sitting on the counter near where he just stood—
Aria’s hospital badge.
My chest twists as I glance out the windows, their shadows long gone.
He’s been looking after her. The silent assassin.
Sometime later, the door swings open again.
“Can’t rely on anyone anymore,” Elias grumbles.
I turn.
He’s dressed in his Shadow King attire—dark coat, three-piece gray suit completed with a green handkerchief tucked in the pocket. He rolls his silver lighter across his knuckles.
“Everything okay?” I ask, gathering my things, and wave to Scarlett, who’s helping another customer.
Elias scowls at his cell phone.
“Ren had an emergency. He was supposed to pick you up. New heart. Completely unreliable.”
My mind flickers back to the strange interaction—the pain and heartbreak in his eyes—and shake my head.
Unreliable or finding someone to care for?
I’m thinking too much.
“Shall we?” Elias asks, his eyes soft.
“Yes.”
Fifteen minutes later, we share my red umbrella and walk through the wrought-iron gates to a place I haven’t entered in years. But it’s been waiting for us, waiting for the right time.
Hollow Gardens.
The rain softens into a silver mist, cleansing the world of soot and grime. Sunlight peeks out from the clouds, gilding the greenery and flowers in gold.
Elias peels off his leather gloves and stuffs them into his pocket. He laces his fingers with mine and stops us in front of our elm tree.
Piano notes drift in the air, and I look at him in surprise.
Beethoven’s “Für Elise.”
He smiles, holding up his phone. A lock of dark hair grazes his forehead, making him look younger.
Slowly, he drops to his knees.
A gasp tumbles out of me as I watch him pull out a small navy box.
He flips it open. Nestled in a bed of black velvet is a large emerald and ruby engagement ring.
A rose—just like our music box. But the emeralds? Just like the pendant around my neck.
“I was late in giving you this,” he murmurs and takes my hand. “I thought I’d never have the chance.”
“Elias,” I breathe.
A soft smile ghosts his lips. Those brilliant eyes train on me. “Twenty years ago, I met a girl I knew I’d love for the rest of my life. I made a vow—only to kiss her in this lifetime. And the next.”
My lips tremble as he slides the ring onto my finger above my wedding band.
“Thank you for making that wish come true.” He presses a soft kiss on my fingertips, the heat searing deep into my soul. “You’re the only person I’ll ever kneel for.”
“Elias,” I launch myself at him, “I love you.”
Deep chuckles reach my ears. He pulls us up, brushes the tears off my face and turns us to face the tree.
A cool breeze flutters its stately branches. A lark sings a beautiful melody nearby as orange butterflies cascade from the leaves.
“It’s still here,” I whisper, tracing the deep carvings we made as teenagers.
The letters are worn with age, but the bark still holds them protectively, like a witness that refuses to forget.
Our tree stood tall while life happened—tragedies, heartbreak, resurrection, and second chances—waiting for us to find each other again.
The sentiment we carved that day remains the same.
“Even if it wasn’t,” Elias murmurs, turning me to face him. “It’ll always live here.”
He takes my hand and presses it against his chest, letting me feel the steady, loyal beats of his heart.
Then, he takes out something small wrapped in foil from his pocket and hands it to me.
Geraldine’s Chocolates. He’s always given me a piece every time we visited the gardens.
“You remember the ritual,” I whisper.
“I remember everything about you.”
With my heart full, I unwrap the chocolate and plop it into my mouth.
Their champagne special edition flavor—the same flavor he gave me when we first arrived in Chicago after we got married.
“I should’ve known it was you then,” I mutter.
Elias chuckles and cups my face reverently.
I think of the young girl at boarding school with dreams of a bright future with the boy from the wrong side of the tracks.
I think of the gentle boy with a kind heart who vowed to love her forever.
I think about my parents’ photos—how they looked at each other like they were the answer they’d been searching for their entire lives.
The same way the man before me is looking at me now.
Elias Kent is and isn’t Kian Leste.
He’s still the king of the underworld, the dealer of secrets.
He’s still in The Antihero Syndicate.
He’s stepped away from The Association in a rare exception—something The Fifth weren’t happy about.
But my husband’s too dangerous to cross.
“The Carusos know what I did for them,” Elias had said last month when I asked about The Association. “They owe me.”
His phone buzzes. Elias takes it out, scans the screen, then frowns.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Gabriel Caruso wants a meeting. My guess is he wants to keep tabs on me.”
“But I thought you were out.”
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he shakes his head. “There’s no such thing as getting out of The Association. Unless you’re in a body bag. Anything they say otherwise is BS.”
“What are you going to do? The Berishas aren’t a threat anymore, but the rest of them…”
His lips were set in a grim line. “They’ll go down. That was The Syndicate oath. We won’t rest until The Association is destroyed.” A soft smile crests his lips. “Don’t worry, Lana. It’ll all be fine. We’ll be fine.”
The mysterious phantom has vanished, but my gut tells me this isn’t the last we’ve heard from him.
My family is safe. We’re flying up to New York City to visit everyone tonight.
The girls scheduled our much-postponed spa night.
Rex mentioned a surprise with glee in his voice, and I must admit—dread mixes with excitement.
We are safe…
For now.
And that’s the life I’ve accepted.
Safety is an illusion when you love someone like Elias.
Any moment may be our last.
But it’s okay. There are no guarantees in life.
I’d rather have tiny moments with him than none at all.
Elias reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. “For you. Something I’ve been holding onto for a long time. Read it on the flight to New York.”
I grin, snatch the envelope from him, and hold it up toward the sky. A letter? Did he write me a love letter?
“No cheating.” Elias chuckles. “Open it later.”
“So mysterious.”
“I love you, my Lana Elise,” he murmurs, tipping my chin up. “You’re my melody, my ‘Für Elise’.”
A soft rainbow crystallizes in the pale-blue sky as the clouds yield to the sun.
“And you,” I whisper, pulling him down by his lapels, “you’re the music I’ve been searching for my entire life.”
He kisses me, steadfast and eternal.
My heart blooms.