Epilogue
Anya
Three years.
Three years, and Cassian Morelli hasn’t changed or diluted into something gentler or more manageable.
If anything, he’s worse now.
More possessive.
More obsessed with the pulse in my throat, the ring on my finger, and the idea that I belong to him in every possible way a person can belong to another.
I always had a secret fear that it would fade, but when Cassian loves, he burns. And he never stops.
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and find him watching me, and sometimes I catch him following me from room to room like I might vanish if he looks away.
I fucking love it.
I crave being wanted to the point of insanity.
I’m enamored that he chooses me every day with the intensity of a man who has the whole world and still wants only one thing.
Me.
And now—on my twenty-ninth birthday—I’m giving him something special.
I find him in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and his hair a mess from running his hands through it. He always rushes back home to me like an addict needing his next fix.
His obsession never cooled.
“Birthday girl,” he murmurs. “What do you want? Name it.”
I swallow, heart pounding with the excitement of telling him the news. He notices my nerves… just like he always notices everything about me.
His grip tightens just a fraction. “Anya, what is it?”
I take his hand and place it over my stomach.
He freezes, and I wait for his reaction with hearts in my eyes.
“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmurs.
“You’re not,” I whisper. “You’re going to be a father.”
His forehead rests against my stomach, his hands wrapping around my hips as if anchoring himself to the earth.
“Three years,” he says, voice shaking with raw emotion. “Three years, and I still can’t believe I get to wake up with you. And now you’re giving me this…” He laughs under his breath. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” I say.
He tilts his head back, looking up at me with that same hunger he always looks at me with. He presses a kiss to my stomach, then another.
“You and our baby… you’re my entire world.”
I smile, brushing my thumb over the corner of his mouth.
“And you’re ours.”
The truth is that I learned obsession from him. He became my drug too—my craving, a living need inside me that is only sated with his presence.
His obsession didn’t fade.
It multiplied and wrapped itself around our life, our home, our future child. Wrapped around me until it infected me with the same sickness.
I’m not pretending to be pious. I know I wouldn’t survive without it. Or him.
Cassian Morelli never changed.
But I did… and now we’re perfect for each other.
Until our lifetime ends.
Enzo Morelli coming soon….
Thanks so much for reading my silly little book! I hope it gave you a fun palette cleanser or some delicious brain rot—you deserve it.