Epilogue
Five years later
Alexander
I watch my daughter sleeping in her princess bed, her dark curls splayed across the pillow just like her mother's. Five years. Five years since I claimed Alice as mine, and every morning I wake up stunned that this is my life now. The shy waitress who spilled coffee on my custom suit gave me something I never knew I wanted—a family. And tonight, I plan to tell her I want to make it bigger.
"Daddy?" Isa's voice is sleepy, her little hand reaching out from beneath her sparkly pink comforter. "Is it morning?"
"Not yet, princess." I lean down and press my lips to her forehead. "I'm just checking on you."
She smiles, eyes already drifting closed again. At four years old, she's the perfect blend of Alice and me—my determination, her mother's gentleness. The combination is lethal. I've never stood a chance against either of them.
I close Isa's door softly and pad down the hallway of our penthouse. Five years ago, I promised Alice I'd take care of her family. It was the easiest promise I've ever made. Her mother, Diane, occupies the east wing guest suite—though it stopped being a "guest" area long ago. The best specialists in the country have her cancer in remission and her autoimmune condition is well-managed now. Down the hall, her brother Toby has his own space. He's seventeen now, excelling in school with the tutors I hired, already talking about college applications.
And Alice...my Alice is probably in our bedroom, waiting for me.
The kitchen light is still on. I find Diane sitting at the island counter, sipping tea.
"Alexander," she smiles, looking up from her book. "Checking the perimeter?"
I chuckle. She teases me about my nightly rounds, but she understands. When you've lived without, you guard what's yours with obsessive vigilance. "Just making sure everyone's tucked in."
"Isa went down okay?" She looks better than she has in years. No more hollow cheeks or shadowed eyes. Alice cried the first time her mother was strong enough to cook Sunday dinner for all of us.
"Out like a light after two stories and a song." I lean against the counter. "Toby home?"
"Got in an hour ago. That study group at the library." She gives me a knowing look. "I think there might be a girl involved."
"Smart kid." I push off from the counter. "Need anything before I head up?"
She shakes her head, eyes soft with emotion. "We have everything we need, Alexander. More than we ever imagined possible."
Five years ago, those words would have made me uncomfortable. Gratitude always felt like a transaction to me—something people offered when they wanted more. Now I just nod, recognizing the simple truth in her statement. I gave them security; they gave me belonging.
"Goodnight, Diane."
"Goodnight, son."
The word still catches me off guard sometimes. Son. A family connection I never had, casually bestowed like it's the most natural thing in the world.
I take the stairs two at a time, eager now. The master suite spans the entire top floor of the penthouse. I find Alice in our bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair clinging to her neck. Steam rises from her skin, pink from the hot shower. She hasn't heard me come in yet.
I could stand here forever, just watching her. Five years, and the sight of her still kicks me in the chest.
"You planning on dropping that towel anytime soon?" My voice comes out rough.
She startles, turning with wide eyes that quickly warm with recognition. "I didn't hear you come up."
"I'm a man on a mission." I stalk toward her, watching her pulse jump in her throat. That shyness hasn't completely disappeared, even after all this time. It drives me fucking wild.
"Isa asleep?" she asks, clutching the towel a little tighter. As if that flimsy barrier could stop what's about to happen.
"Everyone's settled." I reach her, trapping her against the marble counter. "Which means I finally have you all to myself."
Her lips part, breath quickening. It amazes me that we can still do this to each other—create this crackling tension with nothing but proximity. I slide my hand up her arm, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake.
"You're cold."
She shakes her head. "Not cold."
I know. I know exactly what's happening to her body. I've made a five-year study of Alice Clark Grant. I know every curve, every sensitive spot, every sound she makes when I touch her just right. The knowledge doesn't diminish my hunger—it sharpens it.
"Five years today," I murmur against her neck.
She melts against me. "You remembered."
"The day you became mine? I'll remember it on my deathbed." I nip at her earlobe, feeling her shiver. "Though I'm not sure which anniversary we're celebrating—the coffee spill or the first time I had you on that rug at our island estate..."
Her cheeks flush darker. "Alexander..."
"I like both options." My hands find her waist, fingers dipping beneath the towel. "The moment I knew I had to have you, and the moment I finally did."
The towel drops. Five years of comfortable living hasn't changed her essential softness. She's still all gentle curves and delicate skin. The only differences are the silvery stretch marks on her belly and fuller breasts—battle scars from carrying our daughter that I worship with reverent fingers.
"You're staring," she whispers.
"Damn right I am." I lift her onto the counter, stepping between her legs. "My wife is fucking gorgeous."
Her arms wind around my neck, pulling me closer. We kiss deep and slow, like we have all the time in the world. In a way, we do. I made sure of it, restructuring my entire empire to ensure I'm home for dinner most nights, present for weekends, available for the moments that matter. My father built his fortune by sacrificing everything else. I've learned there's another way.
I carry her to our bed, still kissing her, unwilling to break contact even for the few seconds it takes to cross the room. She's working at my shirt buttons, fingers fumbling in her eagerness. I help her, stripping off my clothes until there's nothing between us.
"God, look at you," I breathe, taking in her body spread across our bed. Her hair fans out on the pillow, still damp from her shower.
"Look who's talking." Her eyes roam over me with open appreciation. Gone is the shy waitress who could barely meet my gaze. My Alice has grown bold in our marriage bed.
I cover her body with mine, savoring the little gasp she makes when our skin connects. "You know what I was thinking about today?"
"What?" She arches as I trail kisses down her throat.
"That first night. How you trembled when I touched you." I demonstrate, running my palm down her side, feeling the slight quiver of her muscles. "How you looked at me like I was something out of a dream."
Her fingers thread through my hair. "You were. I still wake up sometimes and can't believe this is real."
"It's real." I nip at her collarbone, soothing the sting with my tongue. "And it's never going away."
I take my time with her, relearning the landscape of her body even though I know it by heart. Her breasts are fuller now, more sensitive since she nursed Isa. I lavish attention on them until she's squirming beneath me, breathless pleas falling from her lips.
"Alexander, please..."
"Please what, baby?" I'm already moving lower, tasting the salt of her skin.
"I need you now." Her hips lift in invitation. "It's been three days."
I chuckle against her stomach. "Business trips are hell." My hands grip her thighs, spreading them wider. "But I'm home now. And I'm going to make up for lost time."
I settle between her legs, breathing in the scent of her arousal. "Mine," I growl, before tasting her with a broad stroke of my tongue.
She cries out, back arching off the bed. I hold her hips firmly, keeping her in place as I devour her. This—her pleasure, her surrender—feels like power no business deal could ever match. I work her with deliberate precision, using every trick I've learned over our years together until she's trembling, right on the edge.
"Not yet," I command, pulling back. "I want to be inside you when you come."
Her whimper of protest turns into a moan of satisfaction as I slide up her body and thrust into her in one smooth motion. The feeling of being enveloped in her heat nearly undoes me. Five years of marriage, and it still feels like coming home.
"Fuck, Alice." I grip the headboard with one hand to keep from crushing her, setting a relentless pace. "You feel so good around me."
Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Don't stop."
As if I could. As if there's any force on earth that could make me stop when she's looking at me like this, when her body is gripping mine so perfectly. I slide my hand between us, finding the spot that makes her see stars.
"That's it, baby. Let go for me."
She comes with a cry, her body clenching around mine. The sight of her undone—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with pleasure—pushes me right to the edge. But I'm not finished yet.
I roll us, keeping us connected, until she's straddling me. Her hair falls forward like a curtain as she catches her breath, hands braced on my chest.
"Keep going," I urge, gripping her hips. "I'm not done with you yet."
She starts to move, finding her rhythm. The view from beneath her is spectacular—the sway of her breasts, the ripple of pleasure across her face, the place where our bodies join. I guide her movements, helping her find the angle that makes her gasp.
"You know what I want?" I ask, voice rough with restraint.
She nods, already guessing. We know each other too well now.
"Say it," I demand, slapping her ass lightly. "Tell me what I want."
"Another baby," she whispers, moving faster. "You want to put another baby in me."
The words ignite something primal in my chest. "That's right." I thrust up to meet her, hard enough to make her yelp. "I want to see you round with my child again. Want to watch you grow bigger each month, knowing I did that to you."
Her movements become erratic, her breathing shallow. "Yes," she hisses. "I want it too."
I flip us again, needing to control the pace, to drive us both toward that edge. "I need to breed you. Need to see you pregnant again. Got to fill you up with my cum. Fucking glowing. Mine. "
I'm pounding into her now, all finesse gone, replaced by raw need. Her nails rake down my back, adding just the right edge of pain to my pleasure.
"Alexander," she gasps, "I'm close again."
"Come with me this time." I can feel my control slipping. "Come with me, Alice."
She shatters around me, my name a prayer on her lips. I follow her over, emptying myself deep inside her with a guttural groan. For a moment, the world narrows to just this—our joined bodies, our synchronized heartbeats, our mingled breath.
I collapse beside her, pulling her against my chest. Her skin is slick with sweat, her breathing gradually slowing to normal. I brush damp hair from her forehead, pressing my lips to her temple.
"I meant it," I murmur against her skin. "About another baby."
She turns in my arms, studying my face. "I know you did." Her finger traces the line of my jaw. "I want that too. Isa would be a wonderful big sister."
The thought fills me with unexpected emotion. "She takes after her mother that way."
Alice smiles, soft and knowing. "Toby adores her. Says she's the little sister he never knew he needed."
"Your brother's a good kid." I pull her closer, resting my chin on top of her head. "He's going to do great things."
"Because of you," she whispers against my chest.
I shake my head. "Because of who he always was. I just removed the obstacles."
She leans back to look at me properly. "Five years ago, would you have said that?"
I consider this. "Five years ago, I thought money was the answer to everything."
"And now?"
"Now I know it's just a tool." My hand slides down to rest on her belly, imagining the possibility growing there. "The real wealth is this. Us. The family we've built."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "I love you, Alexander Grant."
"I love you, Alice Grant."
She settles against me, her body molding to mine perfectly. Outside our window, the city glitters, a reminder of the empire that once seemed like everything to me. Now it's just the backdrop to what really matters.
"So," I murmur into her hair, "how soon can we start trying for that baby?"
She laughs, the sound vibrating against my chest. "You just did."
"Again," I clarify, already feeling desire stirring once more. "I want to make absolutely sure."
Her hand slides down my stomach, finding me already half-hard for her again. "Now who's being impatient?"
"Five years hasn't changed everything about me." I roll her beneath me again, capturing her laugh with my mouth. "I still take what I want."
Her eyes darken with renewed desire. "And what do you want right now?"
I press against her, leaving no doubt about my intentions. "Everything, Alice. With you, I want everything."
And as I sink into her again, slower this time, savoring every sensation, I know it's true. The shy waitress who crashed into my life gave me everything I never knew I needed. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knows exactly how grateful I am.