EPILOGUE
Brandon got up in the middle of the night, driven by an urgent trip to the bathroom.
Barely half-awake, he slipped out from under the covers to take care of it.
A faint haze clung to him, heavy with lingering exhaustion.
He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but the post-coital fog felt remarkably similar.
After that first desperate rush, he and Amanda had taken their sweet time with a slower, more tender second and third round.
Afterward, they’d curled up face-to-face, whispering in the dark until they finally drifted off to sleep.
He washed his hands, keeping as quiet as possible, and slipped back into the bedroom.
A cool breeze crept through the open window.
Moonlight traced Amanda, sleeping in his bed, casting a pale cyan glow that sculpted her into living marble.
Then, as if out of pure spite—just for the petty thrill of defying him even in her dreams—she shifted, shattering the masterpiece Brandon had built in his mind.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“How did I even end up here?”
That light, the way she lay completely uncovered. It was too damn perfect.
He reached for the camera resting on the nightstand and popped off the lens cap. Dialing up the exposure, he tweaked the settings to capture the moment just right. The shutter’s click cut sharply through the dead silence of the night.
Her blonde hair flared into a silver halo against the window’s glow. Her pale, soft breasts; the subtle bend of her leg creating an angle at her waist. It was so…
“What are you doing? Come to bed, sweetheart.”
Amanda murmured without opening her eyes, her voice already heavy with sleep.
“Be right there.”
Once again, Brandon was struck by just how lucky he was. He remembered thinking that the first time he’d made Amanda come felt like hitting the jackpot—a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of pure luck that would never happen again.
He looked down at the camera in his hands. Photography was one of the few things he genuinely loved doing. Everything else in his life had always felt like a disorganized mess, tossing him around at the whims of fate.
Now, though, something else had climbed to the top of the short list of things he was truly certain of: lying right here beside Amanda, belonging to her and Isabella.
This was what he wanted out of life. A sudden, razor-sharp certainty washed over him, sparking an excitement for the future he’d never felt before.
It was so intense it was almost terrifying. Almost.
He set the camera aside and eased back onto the mattress, moving carefully so he wouldn't disturb the woman whose orders brought him so much bliss to obey. As he braced a hand against the bed, the moonlight caught the gold bracelet that would never leave his wrist.
I was wrong, he thought. With Amanda and Isabella, it feels like I hit the jackpot every single day.