Epilogue - Ray
ONE YEAR LATER
I stand in the doorway of our home in San Francisco, leaning against the frame as I watch Sophia and Pete decorate the Christmas tree. Their laughter fills the room, soft and light, echoing against the vaulted ceilings and dancing through the twinkle of the fairy lights that spiral up the tree. Sophia adjusts an ornament Pete has hung too low, her hair catching the glow of the lights like fire. My son, my rock, beams at her, his small face alight with admiration. He’s just as obsessed with her as I am.
The house feels alive in a way I never thought possible. This life—this impossible, borrowed life—is everything to me. My world has always been carved in shadows, and now here I am, standing in the light, trying not to get burned.
Sophia glances over her shoulder and catches me staring. Her lips curve into a smile that sends a pang of gratitude through me. “Are you going to stand there brooding, or are you going to help us?” she teases.
“Someone’s got to supervise,” I reply, stepping into the room. The warmth of the space hits me—a roaring fire, the scent of fresh pine, and the faint aroma of spiced cider. I pause, absorbing it. This is what home is supposed to feel like.
“Supervisor, huh?” she says with a raised brow, placing her hands on her hips. Pete bursts into giggles and throws a piece of tinsel at me. I catch it mid-air, laughing, and toss it back.
Sophia takes out her phone and gestures for Pete and me to come closer. “Let’s call my parents,” she says.
We settle on the couch, Pete squeezed between us, as the video call connects. Her mom’s face lights up the screen first, followed by her dad’s, both beaming warmly.
“There’s our girl,” Betty exclaims, her eyes softening as they land on Sophia. Then she gasps dramatically. “Oh, my! That’s our Pete! Look at you, sweetheart!”
Pete’s face lights up as he leans closer to the camera, waving so hard he nearly knocks the phone out of Sophia’s hands. “Hi, Nana! Hi, Pops!” he shouts so loud I chuckle.
Betty clasps her hands together as her voice bubbles with excitement. “Well, there’s our handsome young man! Pete, is that your Christmas tree I see behind you? It’s so gorgeous!”
Pete nods eagerly. “Sophia helped me, and so did my dad. We even put the star on top! Do you like it?”
“I don’t just like it, munchkin. I love it!” Betty replies, her smile as bright as the twinkling lights on the tree. “Look at those ornaments—and the garland! Sophia, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Sophia laughs, shaking her head. “Mom, it’s Pete’s tree, not mine. He picked everything.”
“And did a wonderful job,” Betty gushes, her gaze scanning the background. “Oh, look at that mantle, the stockings! It looks like a picture out of a magazine.”
Sophia shrugs playfully. “It’s mostly Ray’s doing, Mom. He’s surprisingly good at this whole Christmas thing.”
Betty chuckles softly. “I’ll bet. It’s so nice to see you settling in, Sophia. This house feels like it’s filled with so much love.”
John leans closer to the camera, his deep voice breaking into the conversation. “Pete, how’s school going, buddy? Are you still the smartest kid in your class?”
Pete sits up a little straighter, his grin proud. “I got a star on my math test last week! And my teacher says I’m really good at reading.”
John claps his hands together with delight. “That’s my guy! What kind of books do you like?”
Pete tilts his head thoughtfully. “About space and dinosaurs. Oh! And superheroes, too!”
Betty pretends to whisper conspiratorially. “You know, your Pops loves superhero stories too. Maybe you can tell him about your favorites next time we visit.”
Sophia smiles warmly, glancing at her dad. “He’d love that, wouldn’t you, Dad?”
“Absolutely.” John’s grin widens. “You save those superhero stories for me, okay, bud?”
“Okay, Pops! I will!” Pete promises, his excitement palpable.
As Betty and John start asking more questions about Pete’s school and talking about their holiday plans, I lean back for a moment, letting their voices wash over me. It’s a strange, comforting ache, the kind that comes from realizing you’ve stumbled into something you never knew you needed. Family. Real, messy, unconditional family. Sophia’s parents radiate the kind of love that makes you want to stick around and the way they light up when they talk to Pete... It’s like a sacred thing—something I don’t want to lose.
“We miss you,” Betty says softly as the conversation winds down. “Cassidy wishes she could be there, but you know...”
“She’s too pregnant to move,” Sophia finishes with a laugh. “I know, Mom. We’ll all visit as soon as we can.”
The call ends a few moments later, leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. I glance at Sophia, her eyes still glowing from the connection with her family. My chest warms at the sight and the realization that I’m part of the same group of people who mean the world to her. And I couldn’t be more proud of that.
T he doorbell chimes, and James, the butler, steps into the room, his expression neutral as ever. "Ms. Dee Spencer and her gentlemen have arrived," he announces, his voice perfectly measured.
Sophia stifles a laugh, glancing at me. "That sounds a lot fancier than the reality," she quips under her breath. Before James can step aside, Dee barrels into the room, the heels of her military boots clicking against the hardwood floor. Her dramatic entrance outshines even his composed announcement.
Dee winks at me, as she always does, before engulfing Sophia in a dramatic hug. Her boyfriends—Kyle, Lenny, Roger, and Ryan—follow, shaking my hand and sharing their usual good-natured jabs.
Their driver comes in carrying wrapped presents. “Evening, everyone,” he greets as he piles up the gifts near the fireplace.
We murmur our responses and wave.
“Thank you,” Ryan murmurs. “Have a wonderful Christmas with your family.”
The man nods to all of us before taking his leave.
“We come bearing gifts!” Dee announces, pointing dramatically at the wrapped boxes.
Her men roll their eyes, but the grins they exchange betray their amusement.
“Perfect timing,” Sophia says. “I was just telling Pete you’d all show up like Santa’s very noisy helpers.”
Pete bounds over to Ryan, who’s holding a shiny box. “Is that for me?” he asks, his excitement palpable.
“Maybe,” Ryan replies with a wink. “Were you good this year?”
Pete gasps. “I’ve been the best!” he declares, glancing at me for confirmation.
“Of course! You’ve always been the best, son.” I nod, ruffling his hair.
I step back and let them take over the room. Dee and her entourage always bring a certain chaotic energy, but I can’t deny how much Sophia loves them. Her world is brighter because of them, and so is mine. Dee’s loud, flamboyant charm complements Sophia’s quieter warmth, and the way the five dote on Pete melts my heart away.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at the screen. Shelby Boyle . I know what this means.
I press the green button and murmur into the screen, “Hold on a sec.”
I show the phone to Sophia.
She brushes a kiss against my cheek. “Go. I’ve got this,” she says, shooing me away.
I retreat to my study, closing the heavy oak door behind me. The room is quiet, the only light coming from the glow of the desk lamp. The ornate shelves are lined with books I haven’t had time to read. The Syndicate never sleeps, even during the holidays.
“Shelby,” I answer, settling into the leather chair.
“Ray,” he begins, his tone brisk. “We’ve got solid intel on Dracul. He’s on the West Coast. Los Angeles.
My grip on the phone tightens, knuckles whitening as Shelby’s words sink in. Dracul. The name alone sends a cold rush through me, the same way it did when he tore my life apart a couple of years ago. I glance toward the closed door of the study, my thoughts darting to Sophia and Pete in the next room.
“Ray,” Shelby says, his tone low but sharp, pulling me back. “This is it. We’ve got the motherfucker pinned down. But we need to act fast before he slips away again.”
“I know,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “I’ll handle it.”
Shelby pauses. “You’ve got a good thing going there, don’t you? That woman, the kid. I don’t need to tell you what’s at stake if Dracul gets wind of them.”
“No,” I reply, my jaw clenching. “You don’t.”
There’s a beat of silence before Shelby speaks again, his voice softer. “I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t need you. But you’re the only one with a grudge as big as ours, the one I know will help us finish this once and for all.”
I exhale, the weight of his words pressing down on me. He’s right. I’ve been chasing Dracul for years, driven by the ghosts of Nadya’s death and the hell Pete went through because of this bastard’s deviant appetites. But now, with Sophia in my life, the stakes feel impossibly high. The thought of Dracul finding out about them—of him using them the way he used Dave’s family all those years ago—makes my blood run cold.
“You’ll coordinate with Nora Donnelly in L.A.,” Shelby continues, his tone all business again. “She’s already got her people in play.”
“Nora,” I repeat, leaning back. The matriarch of the Donnelly family is not someone I take lightly. As one of the founding members of the Syndicate, she commands everyone’s respect. “When?”
“Not today,” Shelby says with a rare chuckle. “You’ve got more important things to handle right now.”
I glance at the door, the muffled sound of laughter spilling through. I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I’ll make the call tomorrow.”
“Good.” There’s a pause, then a faint chuckle. Shelby’s voice softens as he adds, “And Ray... enjoy tonight. You’ve earned it. Merry Christmas.”
The call ends, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand. For a long moment, I sit there, the weight of Shelby’s words settling over me. I’ve spent my life balancing on a knife’s edge, torn between the darkness of my past and the light I’ve found with Sophia and Pete. And now, the two worlds are colliding again.
Dracul is a reminder that no matter how far I run, the shadows are always close behind. I stare out the window at the bay. The lights of San Francisco twinkle against the dark water, a stark contrast to the shadows I’ve lived in for so long. I’ve done it. I’ve managed to carve out a life that balances both worlds. Sophia and Pete are my light, and the Syndicate is my shadow, but they somehow coexist.
My eyes fall to the top drawer of my desk. Slowly, I pull it open and retrieve a small blue velvet box; a new determination takes hold. I snap the box open, revealing the princess-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds. It glints in the dim light, a reminder of the future I never thought I’d have.
I pocket the box and stand, a grin tugging at my lips as I head back to the living room. Dee is twirling Pete around, and Sophia is laughing, her head thrown back as Lenny and Roger try to hang mistletoe over her. My world. My home.
I cross the room and pull Sophia into my arms. She looks up at me, her eyes full of love and curiosity. I’ll ask her later. Right now, this moment is perfect, and I want to savor it.
I feel it deep in my bones. Peace. And love. Sophia has brought me home. I won’t let Dracul or anyone else take this from me. Not again. This family, this life—it’s worth fighting for. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.
For them, I'd face every shadow—and drag the devil himself into the light.
Thank you for reading Home for Xmas .