Epilogue
GIANA
I walk into his office and smile when I see him sitting behind his desk.
Alexius. The real Alexius.
His hair’s longer, and he’s lost weight, but I think the most shocking thing is he isn’t in a suit. Instead, he’s wearing running shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers. But I still feel the power emanating from him.
Nicoli almost had him nailed, but not quite. He’s the power center of this family. King of the Dark Sovereign, and even dressed like this, there’s no doubt in my mind about his authority, his control over the invisible strings that keep the family together. The grand patriarch of an empire, his aura undisputed and unchallenged.
He looks at me, and at once I’m hit by the intensity of him. But his face is friendly. “Giana.”
“I…first, I’m sorry for what my father brought upon your family. And that includes me. But I want to officially let you know my father’s retired from the business.”
He waits.
“My father wasn’t the most powerful, but I know Aurelio wanted something from his businesses and alliances.” This is all coming out wrong, so I take a breath.
“Giana,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “Relax. We’re family. What’s on your mind?”
We’re family—words that tug at my heartstrings.
“Caelian made my father sign everything to me. All the businesses, houses, and properties.”
“He told me. Your dad should be grateful you’re willing to still care for him with a small monthly allowance.”
“He’s still my family.”
Alexius nods. “I respect that.”
I open my bag and pull out the legal document I had drawn up, witnessed, and signed. “It’s ironclad. And it’s all in your name. Businesses and properties, apart from a home for Cristiano, and enough money for him and me to live on. But the rest? Yours.”
He takes it and goes through it.
“Well, fuck. I see why Aurelio wanted your father’s empire so badly. He has a very important port under his control, among others.” He meets my eye. “This could make you and your brother a power in your own right.”
“I don’t want it.”
“And your brother?”
“I don’t want him pushed into this life. It’s all yours.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Just one proviso.”
“I’m listening.”
“If Cristiano chooses to be involved in this…life one day, can I count on the Dark Sovereign to take him in? I don’t expect any special treatment. He’ll need to earn his way if this is the path he wants. But I just ask that you teach him your ways, with your guidance.”
“Consider it done.”
I exhale my relief, knowing the Del Rossa family will take care of my brother if this is the life he wants. I hope it won’t be, but I also know it’s in his blood, as it is in mine. We can try to run from it, but we can’t change it. It’s engraved into us.
Alexius continues reading through the papers then looks at me. “I’m going to ask you again, are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He nods. “My father taught me never to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s a deal.” He gets up and rounds the table, and I stand to shake his hand, but instead, he hugs me. “We’re happy to have you as part of the family,” he says, and my eyes blur with tears.
Everyone has been so accepting of me since the whole ordeal ended. Mira’s back, Leandra and the twins. But there’s something profoundly deep—an honor, almost—knowing that Alexius has accepted me, welcomed me.
“I leave my husband alone for ten minutes, and I find another woman in his arms.” Leandra strolls in with a teasing smile on her face.
Alexius pulls back, his face lighting up at the sight of his wife. “I was just sealing the deal,” he says with a roguish wink, throwing an arm around her waist as she approaches.
“You promised you’ll take it easy for at least a few months.”
“I am. Look at me. I’m not wearing a suit.”
“Only you, Alexius, would consider not wearing a suit as 'taking it easy.' You're still wheeling and dealing, aren't you?” she chides, but fondness blooms in her eyes.
“That’s if you call a conversation with my sister-in-law wheeling and dealing.”
My heart swells with warmth. I can’t explain it, the pride and joy that floods me when he refers to me as his sister-in-law. I am truly a part of this family now, and it’s worth more than I ever thought.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” I stroll to the door, “Caelian mentioned something about a quick trip.”
“Have fun.” Leandra waves as I close the door behind me, then lean back against it, happy with my decision to hand everything over to Alexius.
“When you lean against my brother’s office door like that, I’m inclined to think you’ve just signed away your soul.”
I smile as I look at Caelian. “Perhaps I did.”
“If you did, I hope you got a receipt. Souls are non-refundable, you know.”
“Who says I’m looking for a refund? Maybe I got exactly what I paid for.”
He steps closer, eyes gleaming. “A bargain, huh? If I’m the prize, you definitely scored the jackpot.”
I scoff. “More like a clearance sale with no returns.”
“Funny, I don’t hear you complaining when you’re cashing in on the perks.”
“Perks? Please. I’m just waiting to see if there’s a ‘husband upgrade’ option somewhere in the fine print.”
“Upgrade?” He cocks a brow. “Sweetheart, I’m the deluxe model. No upgrades needed.”
“More like ‘limited edition’ with an expiration date.”
Caelian moves even closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Limited edition? Good thing you already locked me down. Can’t exactly return a husband.”
“True,” I say, straightening his tie. “But I hear there are trade-in options.”
“Trade me in? You couldn’t if you tried. You’re stuck with me.”
I sigh dramatically, but a smile breaks through. “Guess I’ll have to make do.”
“Oh, trust me, love. You’ll more than make do. Now, enough of your aimless wandering. We have a strict schedule to stick to.”
He takes my hand and leads me down the hall to the foyer. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”
With a gentle tug, he pulls me into a twirl right into his chest. “Back to where it all began.”
Six hours later, we’re in a limousine driving through the streets of New York.
I used to hate this place, the constant hum of traffic and blaring horns. The skyscrapers casting down their imposing shadows. The memories of hangovers that lick the ass of death. But now, it’s not so bad. It’s like I’m looking at it in a different light. Caelian changed a lot for me, even when it comes to this city.
“What are we doing here?”
Caelian grins. “You’ll see.”
The limo stops, and when I look out the window, a flutter of something warm sweeps through me. “It’s the coffee shop.”
“If you’re referring to the one I carried you out of, then yes.”
“I’m referring to the one I punched you in the face in front of.”
His eyes narrow. “Cute. Really.”
I smirk.
“Get out of the damn car. I carried you out of this place. I can carry you inside it.”
I’m still smiling as the driver opens the door, and I slide out. Caelian is next to me, taking my hand and leading me inside.
The air is filled with freshly brewed coffee's rich, enticing scent. Notes of chocolate, caramel, and roasted beans mingle in a delectable aroma.
The barista behind the counter gives us a welcoming smile, and the waitress leads us straight to the corner booth where Caelian found me the day everything changed for us. I still remember how annoyed I was with his cocky arrogance. Still am, some days.
Once seated, Caelian orders two double espressos, and once the waitress leaves, I lean forward. “What are we doing here?”
“What? You don't like revisiting the scene of the crime?”
I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “Let’s not speak of your terrible rescue attempts.”
“You call it terrible; I call it effective. You’re here, aren’t you?”
“I’m still recovering from the trauma of being dragged out of here like a damsel in distress.”
Caelian leans back casually, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You love it. Admit it. You have a thing for heroic gestures.”
“Is that what you call it? Heroic? I’m pretty sure I was threatening to strangle you the entire time.”
He shrugs, still smiling. “Details. You were secretly swooning.”
“Oh, yeah. Swooning with rage.”
“And now look at you. Sitting here, still stuck with me.”
“Stuck, huh? I was thinking more along the lines of tolerating.”
His eyes gleam with amusement. “Tolerating, swooning—it’s all the same in the end, love. You know you can’t resist me.”
“The things I put up with.”
He reaches for the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out an envelope, placing it on the table.
I glance at it, then at him. “What’s that?”
“Open it.”
Suddenly, I’m nervous, as if that envelope is holding something profoundly important to us.
My fingers tremble as I reach for it, and Caelian’s hand comes to rest on top of mine, stilling it. “I hate that I didn’t tell you how I felt about you sooner. That I wasted so much time fighting it, fighting this living, breathing thing between us.”
I swallow, my throat thick.
“We both know I’m a big, tough guy, and love? It’s horrible, New York. Terrifying and inconvenient. A bloody nuisance.”
I can’t help but smile because this is a typical Caelian declaration of love somewhere hidden between all the wrong words.
He lets go of my hand. “Okay, I’m done.”
I frown, starting to peel at the edges of the envelope.
“You’re worth it,” he interrupts. “Just to be clear.” There’s a nervous energy to him, and it’s making me…well, nervous.
I pry open the envelope to reveal…
“Divorce papers?” My heart stutters, a sudden chill washing over me. “Signed? Caelian, what is this?”
“Freedom,” he replies simply, and I can hardly breathe, like the air has been sucked out of the space around us.
“Caelian, I…” I can’t find words. Everything’s been great between us the last few weeks. I've officially made the transition into his room, melding our two wardrobes for a shared space that feels uniquely ours. “Divorce?”
“You’ve been denied the freedom to make your own decisions your entire life.” His voice is steady, but there’s a flicker of emotion underneath.
He stands and walks around to the side of my chair, and suddenly, the teasing air he always carries with him is replaced by something different—something vulnerable. “This is me giving you that freedom. Freedom to choose.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring box, his hand tightening around it as he drops to one knee, and when he opens it, I suck in a breath.
Made of platinum, the band gleams softly under the light, sleek and timeless. At its center, a perfectly cut emerald-shaped diamond.
The world seems to hold its breath, just like I am.
“Giana Belucci,” he starts, a crooked grin breaking through, “I’m ridiculously, hopelessly, completely in love with you. So, here’s the deal—marry me, and I’ll spend every single day trying to make you laugh, cry, or threaten to kill me. But mostly laugh.”
His grin widens as he continues, “Whatever you want, we’ll do. We can climb mountains, rob a few banks as a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde—minus the tragic ending, obviously. Or we can do the whole picket fence thing and raise a football team of tiny uses. The point is, you call the shots. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
He holds the ring up, his eyes locked on mine, and says softly, “Because I love you. And I’ll love you for the rest of our lives, no matter what you choose.”
I stare down at him, my heart pounding so hard it might burst. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. The mixture of emotions—surprise, love, disbelief—all crash into me at once. I can see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he’s holding his breath like I’m about to make or break his entire world.
This is it. This is love. It’s in the certainty that I’d choose him, over and over again, even when I swear I won’t. Because this is more than mere chemistry or attraction—this is home.
This is forever.
“A picket fence?” I tease. “Really? You? Mr. 'Rules-Don’t-Apply-to-Me’?”
Caelian’s grin widens, that familiar cocky glint returning. “For you, I’ll even paint it white.”
I laugh softly, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yeah, but I’m your kind of ridiculous.”
“And I love you for it.” I pause, bite my bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“New York,” he starts, raising an eyebrow, “I could’ve proposed on a rooftop under the stars with a string quartet playing, but you’d see right through that.”
“Yeah, you’re not exactly the romantic type.”
“Exactly. I’m more the ‘wait-around-while-you-dramatically-pause-to-keep-me-sweating’ type.”
I laugh softly. “Yes, Caelian. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Oh, thank God. This floor sucks.”
“You’re an asshole.” I slap at him playfully. He catches my hand and slips the ring on my finger—the perfect fit—then pulls me out of my seat and kisses me deeply, passionately, teasing me with a light brush of his tongue along mine.
“We can have a big-ass wedding. No heathen priest, and I promise I won’t carry you down the aisle this time. Or I hear City Hall’s pretty cool.”
I lean in close, my lips to his ear. “Catch me if you can.”
CAELIAN
She turns and runs, and I quickly throw a hundred on the table then take off. She’s fast, but I’m faster.
My heart pounds in sync with my footsteps as I close the distance, dodging through pedestrians who don’t even blink. Halfway down the block, I catch up to her, my hand wrapping around her waist as I scoop her up effortlessly, tossing her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing.
She lets out a surprised yelp, playfully slapping my back, but I don’t slow down. Not for a second.
“Put me down!” she half-laughs, half-protests, her fists playfully pounding against me.
“Not a chance,” I growl, grinning as I carry her through the crowd. The people around us don’t bat an eye. In this city, a guy hauling a woman over his shoulder barely registers as odd. It’s just another Tuesday.
At the car, I manage to fling the door open with one hand, then toss her inside like she’s cargo—careful, but quick.
Before she can protest, I dive in after her, pulling the door shut behind me with a thud, the car's interior suddenly feeling like a private world just for us.
The adrenaline from the chase still pulses through me as I grab her wrist, pulling her close, kissing her again. God, I can kiss this woman for eternity, keep her locked up, naked and perfect, for me to worship for the rest of my life.
I hated signing those damn divorce papers. Fucking blasphemy, if you ask me. But I knew I had to do it. For her. For us. For a fresh start on our terms, and no one else’s. I’m going to love this woman until I take my last breath, even after. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make her happy—love her the way she deserves to be loved.
Both of us laugh breathlessly in the back seat as the energy crackles between us. That electricity never fades; it’s always there when we’re close.
“You’re insane,” she says, still catching her breath.
I lean back, smug. “You’re the one who ran.”
“Maybe I just wanted to see if you could still keep up.”
“Please. I caught you halfway down the block. I’m practically an Olympic champion at this point.”
She bites back a laugh, but I see it. “So, what’s the plan now, Mr. Track Star? Gonna throw me over your shoulder every time I need a little air?”
“Only if you promise to fight me every time.”
She sighs dramatically. “Well, you do keep things interesting.”
“Interesting? Baby, I’m a full-blown adventure.”
She laughs. “Fine. You win. But next time, I’m running faster.”
I grin, pulling her closer. “You can try, love. But we both know how that’s going to end.”
“Yeah, with me stuck in this car, wondering how I ended up with a lunatic.”
I kiss the top of her head, still grinning. “Correction, your lunatic.”
“God help me.”
“Too late, sweetheart. You’re mine, and not even God can help you now.”
END