Epilogue
I barely got a glimpse of the room before Tori threw herself into my arms and gave me a huge hug.
All I saw were balloons.
Tons and tons of balloons.
In all my favorite colors: deep purples and burgundies, rich teal, sleek black and silver.
I was sure Brooklyn had picked them out.
She’d never been one to go for classic pink and blue.
“I am so excited to meet your baaaaaaaabbbbbyyyyyyyy!” Tori squealed, wrapping her arms around me and forcing me to jump up and down with her.
I didn’t mind. After all, her happiness was infectious, and it was clear that she and Brooklyn had put a ton of work and love into planning this shower.
Once I extracted myself from Tori’s grip, I got a chance to look around and see what my sister-in-laws had done.
“This place looks amazing,” I exclaimed.
The room was full of balloons, but it was also decorated with streamers and ribbons and almost every surface was covered in beautifully wrapped gifts.
I was surrounded by love and excitement.
I couldn’t have asked for a better baby shower.
Well—baby sprinkle, supposedly.
At least, that’s what my sisters-in-law had promised, but I’d known the moment I asked for something small that they wouldn’t be able to resist going all out, and I’d caught the look that passed between them when I said I didn’t need a full-blown extravaganza.
Still, by the third baby you’d think they might have a little more chill…
though I was secretly glad they had ignored my wishes.
It was a nice reminder of how much they cared.
“I told you they’d never let you get away with a small shower,” Ford whispered in my ear as he came up behind me.
He wrapped his arms around my growing belly and I leaned back into him with a contented sigh.
I would have thought that after two kids, and with a third on the way, that the sparks between us might have dulled a little.
But Ford always insisted that I was never sexier than when I was pregnant.
Which is probably why we were having a third.
He could barely keep his hands off me when we weren’t expecting, but when I was, it made him almost ravenous.
From the look in his eyes now, I could tell that he was debating dragging me off to the guest bedroom to push me up against a wall and have his wicked way with me.
If we weren’t surrounded by family and friends—all of whom had worked so hard to make this shower possible—I might have let him.
Instead, I just tilted my head back for a kiss and then watched all the oldest kiddos (Nina, Dani, and Teo) playing tag down the long hallway outside the apartment.
Our middle child Rosie was sitting in a playpen with Tori and Stefan’s youngest, Milan, the two of them laughing hysterically at some game of swapping toys that only they seemed to understand, despite the fact that neither of them could speak in complete sentences yet.
It had been five years since Ford and I had made our last stand against his parents, taking a risk on our future and our happiness.
A risk that had since paid off, with dividends.
Life was truly grand.
True to their word, the Malones had paid off the Bratva, and we hadn’t heard from the Russians since.
There were always signs that they were still doing some smaller deals with Ford’s parents, but I knew they’d never come near us again and it was a peace of mind that I cherished.
True to Ford’s promise, although the senior Malones doted on their grandchildren’s photos and loaded up their trust funds with regular deposits, they didn’t seem terribly interested in seeing them much, outside of major holidays or the kids’ birthdays.
“I’m just not very good with young children,” my mother-in-law had said once, and I hadn’t pushed her.
It was perfect, actually.
Just the right amount of contact from the Malones.
At one point, they’d indicated to Ford that they were talking to A Guy about divesting from their business.
According to my father-in-law, it was, “Just to make things a bit easier for you and the heirs when the time comes.”
It seemed to be a tacit admission that Ford’s parents were working to sever their Connections, but I didn’t try to dig into it any further.
Their lives, for the most part, were very separate from ours—and I liked it that way.
It allowed all the Zorics/Malones to enjoy every moment of raising this next generation of children without worrying that the shadows of any of their grandparents would ever shade them.
Ford and I opened all the gifts and then, leaving the kids to play with the piles of wrapping paper, we gathered in the kitchen where Brooklyn was cutting the cake.
I sat down and put my feet up.
Even after two kids, and now with this third one on the way, I’d never gotten used to how swollen my ankles got.
Ford immediately moved behind my chair to rub my shoulders, and I let out a happy sigh.
“Thank you all, for everything,” I said.
“It was our pleasure,” Brooklyn insisted, passing me the first slice of cake.
“We love you,” Tori added.
“I love you too,” I said.
“All of you.”
Once the party had dissipated, with just our family remaining, all of us gathered around the table, eating leftover bits of cake and rocking babies or petting dogs.
We’d all done pretty well for ourselves and after the chaos that had come at the start of each of our marriages, we were all now settled into married life.
All of us happily.
Truth be told, my brothers were happier than I’d ever seen them.
Even though they’d always been protective and caring to me when we were growing up, I had still been surprised by how quickly they had taken to parenthood.
Both of them were great fathers.
There was no sign they would be anything like the kind of father we’d had.
And Ford continued to amaze me with the amount of love he had for me and the kids.
I felt lucky every day.
Brooklyn settled down across from me, while Tori leaned her head on my shoulder, smiling at Stefan who was gathering up the dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink, where Luka was loading everything into the dishwasher.
We all had the exhausted parent look on our faces, but we were smiling too.
Life was good. Better than good.
It was perfect.
I looked around the room, watching the older kids stack Legos with Ford and the younger ones babble and make messes with their toys.
It was chaos, but it was the kind of chaos I liked.
I felt at home here, with my family—not just my husband and kids, but with my brothers and sisters and their families.
I had a place where I belonged and that was worth more than anything.
“Can you even imagine that one of these days we’ll be watching them get married?” I asked, trying to envision the little ones all grown up.
Grown up and old enough to get married.
It seemed impossible.
I’d asked the question rhetorically, expecting it to be a wistful smiling moment.
But of course, Luka came over and answered, still drying his hands on a dish towel.
My brother never could resist answering a rhetorical inquiry.
“Yep,” he said. “Who do you think will be arranging them?”
Brooklyn smacked him on the arm and I threw a balled-up napkin at him while we all laughed.
But as the laughter faded, I could see everyone in the room thinking about it.
After all, the point remained.
All of our marriages had been arranged in some way.
But by now, we all knew that sometimes, an arrangement was more than a convenience.
More than a sham.
Sometimes, it was the first step to a happy ending.
Ready for a whole new world of delicious alphas, arranged marriages, enemies-to-lovers with high angst, steam, and untraditional love stories?
Meet the Bellantis, a trio of brothers in wine country, who are trying to cut family ties to the mob after the death of their father.
The saga begins with Broken Bride .
I was sold to him to settle a debt…
but Dante Bellanti never settles.
My father was always a gambling man.
Unfortunately, he never could pick winners.
When the wolves closed in, he chose himself, like always.
He traded his freedom…
for mine.
He forced me to marry.
Now Dante Bellanti owns my body.
I’m just another possession for a man who already has too much.
So I won’t let him have my heart.
But you know what they say about gambling.
The house always wins.
And I’m at the mercy of the Bellantis.
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