Epilogue
Colecion
Six Months Later
The house in Vireaux Pointe was finally starting to feel like home.
I stood in the doorway of what used to be Lesley’s cold, empty living room, watching contractors put the finishing touches on the built-in shelving I’d designed.
The space was transformed, with warm gray walls, cream furniture that invited you to sink in and stay awhile, and fresh flowers on every surface. It looked lived in. Loved.
“Mrs. Grimson?” The lead contractor approached with his clipboard. “We’re all set with the shelving. You want to do a final walkthrough?”
Mrs. Grimson. Six months later, and I still felt a little thrill every time someone said it. Not because of the name itself, but because of what it represented. Choice. Partnership. Love that had grown from something tangible instead of something required.
“Everything looks perfect,” I said, running my hand along the smooth wood. “Thank you.”
After they left, I walked through our home—and it was ours now, not just his—taking in all the changes we’d made together.
The kitchen where we cooked breakfast every Sunday morning.
The office space we’d carved out for my business, complete with the vision boards and client portfolios that had tripled since I’d become Mrs. Grimson.
Our master bedroom hadn’t changed with its blackout curtains and silk sheets, but also fresh flowers and throw pillows that softened the edges. Everything about our home was perfect to me.
My phone buzzed with a text from Rebecca:
Rebecca: Ekkk, the event emporium grand opening is next week! Still can’t believe you’re actually doing it.
I smiled, looking out the window, thinking about the property Lesley had surprised me with three months ago.
A beautiful building on the outskirts of town, perfect for hosting everything from intimate dinner parties to elaborate weddings.
My dream was actually happening, and not because I’d married well, but because I’d worked for it.
Because my husband believed in me enough to invest in my vision while making it clear that the success would be mine alone.
The sound of his car in the driveway made my stomach flutter the way it had since our first real kiss. Some things never changed.
“Baby, I’m home,” his voice carried through the house, and that familiar warmth moved through me the second I heard him. “In the kitchen,” I called back.
He appeared in the doorway still wearing his suit from whatever meeting he’d left, but his tie was loose, and his sleeves were rolled up. This was my favorite version of him—powerful enough to run an empire but relaxed enough to let me see the man underneath.
“How was your day?” he asked, crossing the room to wrap his arms around me from behind.
“Good. The shelving’s finished, Yaslynn confirmed the catering for next week’s opening, and I booked three new clients.” I leaned back against his chest. “How was yours?”
“Better now.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “You eat?”
“Waiting for you.”
“What we having?”
“Your favorite. Breakfast for dinner.”
He turned me in his arms, studying my face with that intensity that still made my knees weak. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You listened,” I said simply. “You saw me. You chose me.”
“Best decision I ever made.”
As we cooked dinner together, I thought about how far we’d come. From that terrifying night when he’d offered me protection in exchange for a signature, to this moment of domestic bliss in the kitchen of our home.
We’d both been broken in different ways when we met. Him, by a life that demanded hardness over heart. Me, by loss that had taught me independence, was the only safety. But somehow, we’d learned to be soft with each other. To trust. To build a love neither of us had known we needed.
“You know what I was thinking?” he said, plating our food with the same precision he brought to everything else.
“What’s that?”
“Maybe it’s time we started talking about expanding those beautiful chocolate babies.”
I nearly dropped the wine glass I was holding. “Lesley Grimson, are you ready for me to have your babies?”
“Maybe. Would that scare you?”
I considered the question seriously. A few months ago, the idea would have terrified me. But now, looking at this man who’d proven over and over that he was in this for real, who’d shown me what it felt like to be cherished and protected and loved completely...I wouldn’t be alone.
“No,” I said quietly. “It wouldn’t scare me. Not with you.”
His smile was soft, genuine, and full of promise. “Good. Because I’m ready to have some running around here, drawing on the walls, and shit. I know they will be smart like their mama, stubborn like their daddy.”
“Stubborn like both of us, you mean.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “That too.”
Later, after dinner and wine and conversation that reminded me why I’d fallen in love with him, I curled up against his side in our bed.
“Lesley?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thank you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I love you Co, you never gotta thank me for shit. I’m ya man.”
“One hundred grand.”
“Exactly.”
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about that scared woman who’d walked into a restaurant six months ago to sign papers that would change her life. She’d been looking for survival. Instead, she’d found everything.
Lesley
A Week Later
I woke up to the sound of rain against the windows, and Coco curled into me. Six months of this, and it still caused me to pause. Shit was like a miracle I didn’t think I’d ever earn.
She was awake, I could tell. Her breathing always gave her away. But she stayed still, pretending, because she loved these quiet minutes before the world knocked on our door.
“I know you up,” I murmured into her hair.
“Prove it.”
My hand slid down her side, and she shivered. “There’s my proof.”
She turned in my arms, eyes bright with that mix of mischief and love that always leveled me. “Good morning, husband.”
“Morning, wife.”
Six months and I still couldn’t believe it—couldn’t believe she was mine. Not because of a deal, not because of the family, but because she chose me. Because I convinced the coldest, most beautiful woman I ever met that I was worth her love.
The business had shifted since the wedding.
I let Taiwan and my lieutenants handle the street work while I focused more on the legit shit.
Don’t get it twisted—anybody testing me still caught the smoke.
But my priorities were different now. The empire mattered, but not more than the woman in my bed.
Not more than this life we were building together.
“I can’t believe today is the day.”
Today was her grand opening. I’d watched her build that emporium from the ground up, pouring herself into every detail.
“I’m proud of you,” I said, because that was the truth. “You did that.”
“We did that. Your money made it possible.”
“Nah, baby. Your vision made it possible. I just wrote the check.”
She smiled, but I saw the nerves underneath. This wasn’t just business for her. This was proof that she could stand on her own, that being with me didn’t erase who she was. She came to me with her own, and I would never try to overshadow that. My job as her husband would always be to illuminate.
“You know what’s crazy?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“Remember when you asked me what I’d want if I could snap my fingers and have anything?”
I remembered. She lit up just talking about it that night in the car.
“Yeah. I remember.”
“I thought it was just a dream. Something I’d never get to touch. And now… look.”
“Now look,” I agreed, sliding my hand over hers. “You got everything you dreamed of and more. And you almost ran instead of marrying me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Boy, shut up. I’ll forever be grateful you saved me.”
I locked on her gaze, voice dropping. “That wasn’t us. That was God lining shit up.”
Her smile softened, eyes glistening. “You’re right. I’m blessed. Not just with the business. With all of it.”
I pressed my forehead to hers, my voice rough. “Baby…”
“I know, I know. I’m being sentimental.” She chewed her lip, debating if she should even say it. “I spent so long protecting myself, building walls just to survive. I never thought about what it would feel like to actually live and love.”
I let out a low breath. I knew exactly what she meant. We’d both been surviving, hustling, keeping people at arm’s length like that was the only way to breathe. Then somehow, we ended up here.
Us.
Later, I watched her get ready for the night she’d been grinding toward. I used to think power meant keeping everybody at a distance. Control everything, trust nobody. Coco showed me different, real power’s letting the right one close, even when it scares the fuck outta you.
Her grand opening was flawless. Icy Co. Emporium had her stamp on every corner. The guests were impressed, and the press was buzzing. I stayed in the cut, arms crossed, just watching my wife run the room. She was sharp, unshakable, glowing.
My fuckin lady.
When the night wound down, it was just her and me. Surrounded by flowers and half-empty champagne glasses.
“How it feel?” I asked, pulling her close.
“Amazing, baby. The night was perfect, and I’ll be booked forever.
“Yeah, but how does it feel here?” I asked, tapping her heart.
“Like my momma would be proud of me. Like my daddy missed out. Like the start of something big.”
I kissed her softly. “Whatever’s next, we in it together.”
“Together,” she whispered.
On the way home, her hand in mine, I realized it plain. Six months ago, I had money, power, respect—all that. But it didn’t mean shit compared to this.
I got love and a home with Coco. Fuck the empire. I had her. That was enough.
I’d choose her every time.
The End