Epilogue Dante
Three Months Later
I watch my wife from across the room. It’s my favorite pastime.
She's standing at the window of her home office, phone pressed to her ear, gesturing animatedly as she talks. Sunlight catches the gold in her hair, and my dick stirs.
To be fair, it stirs every time she breathes.
It’s been three months of waking up next to her, falling asleep with her in my arms, learning the thousand small ways I can make her smile.
Best three months of my life.
"—yes, Serafina, that's exactly what I was thinking," Polina says into the phone. "If we pool our resources, we can open a second location by spring."
She's been working with Serafina Gavrikov on this project for weeks now. Planning. Strategizing. Building something good from something terrible.
The Lebedev estate sold last month for an obscene amount of money. Polina didn't keep a cent.
Instead, she's funneling every dollar into a foundation for trafficking survivors and kids aging out of violent homes. A partnership with Serafina's shelter that'll give them more reach, more resources, more ways to help.
Turning her father's blood money into salvation for people like her.
I couldn’t be prouder.
She ends the call and turns, catching me watching her. A smile curves her lips.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough." I cross to her, unable to stay away. "How'd it go?"
"Good. Really good." Her eyes light up in that way that makes my heart do stupid things. "Serafina thinks we can have the new intake center operational by March. We're meeting with contractors next week."
I pull her against me, my hands settling at her waist. "You're incredible. You know that?"
She laughs, ducking her head. "I'm just—"
"Incredible," I repeat firmly. "Taking something ugly and making it beautiful. That takes strength, baby."
Her arms loop around my neck. "I learned from the best."
"Flatterer."
"Truth-teller." She rises on her toes and kisses me softly.
I deepen it immediately. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, tasting her. Three months and I still can't get enough. Will never get enough.
"Dante," she murmurs against my lips.
"Yeah, baby?"
"There's something I need to tell you."
The tone of her voice makes me pull back to study her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, and she's biting her lower lip.
"What is it? You can tell me anything.”
She takes a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
The world stops.
Just...stops.
"What?" The word comes out strangled.
“I said I'm pregnant." Her hands move to her still-flat stomach. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to wait for the right moment to tell you."
Pregnant.
My wife is pregnant. With my child. Our child.
"Dante?" Her voice wavers slightly. "Say something."
I can’t. I can't speak. Can't breathe. Can't do anything except stare at her.
"Are you—" Her confidence falters. "Are you okay with this? I know we didn't plan—"
I crush my mouth to hers, kissing her so hard, so desperately, that she makes a small sound of surprise.
When I pull back, I'm shaking.
"Okay with it?" I rasp. "Baby, I'm—fuck, I don't even have words."
Happy doesn't cover it. Ecstatic doesn't cover it.
I'm fucking destroyed in the best possible way.
I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands framing her hips, and press my forehead to her stomach.
"Hey, little one," I murmur. "It's your dad. I don't know if you can hear me yet, but I wanted to say hi."
Polina's fingers thread through my hair, her touch gentle.
"I'm probably going to screw this up," I continue, talking to the tiny life growing inside her. "Your dad's not exactly father material. But I promise you—I swear to you—I will love you and protect you and give you everything I never had."
My throat tightens.
"You're going to have a mother who's the strongest, kindest, most beautiful person I've ever met. And she's going to teach you things I can't. Like how to be kind. How to be brave."
I press a kiss to Polina's stomach, then rise to my feet, pulling her into my arms.
She's crying. Of course she is. But they're happy tears, and I kiss them away one by one.
"I love you," I tell her. "I love you so fucking much."
"I love you too." Her smile is radiant. "We're having a baby."
"We're having a baby," I repeat, the reality finally sinking in.
A baby. Our baby.
I think about the life we're building. The foundation Polina's creating. The family we're starting.
It's not perfect.
Lombardi is still out there, a thorn in my side, running what's left of the trafficking network. But his days are numbered. I'm patient, and when the time comes, I'll end him the same way I ended Lebedev.
Permanently.
For now, though, I have more important things to focus on.
Like my woman and our future growing inside her.
“Dante,” Her eyes are watery. "You're wrong. You’re going to be an amazing father."
I'm not so sure about that, but I'll try. For her. For our child.
"Come here," I murmur, guiding her to the couch.
I sit and pull her into my lap, my hand settling protectively over her stomach.
"Tell me everything," I say. "When's the due date? How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"
She laughs, curling into me. "May. I'm feeling good—a little tired, but good. And yes, actually. I need you to not worry over me like a mother hen.”
"Not happening."
"Dante—"
"Nope." I kiss the top of her head. “You’re the love of my life, and you're carrying my child. Worrying is my right.”
She sighs, but I can feel her smiling against my chest.
We sit like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, talking about nursery colors and baby names and all the little details that suddenly feel monumentally important.
"Thank you," I whisper into her hair.
"For what?"
"For choosing me. For loving me. For giving me everything.”
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes shining. "You gave me everything first."
"Then we're even."
She cups my face in her hands. "We're forever."
Forever.
Yeah.
I can live with that.