Epilogue
MICELI
Two years later...
The trial was about to begin. After months of setbacks and bullshit, finally Rosalina and Stephanie’s parents would have their justice served. I glanced at my wife, sitting beside me as we ate breakfast, or better yet, as I ate breakfast and she looked ready to vomit.
Coming out as being alive and well had harmed her in a way.
As much as she said she was free, the ghosts of her past continued to haunt her.
More so after a therapy session. I glanced down the table at Roman, our toddler, as his little feet kicked while he watched Mrs. Rachel on a tablet and he ate his breakfast, completely oblivious to what was happening around him.
He helped heal Stephanie and me more than any therapist could.
He was a surprise. Although, if I was honest, he shouldn’t have been. I’d been fucking Stephanie without protection for months. It was bound to happen. Still, he was a ray of hope we needed during the darkness.
“I know this is difficult for you,” I said, keeping my voice low so not to disturb Roman. “If you’d rather stay here, I think everyone would understand.”
Stephanie shook her head. “No. I have to do this. I’m just... I want to see him—them rot.”
I agreed. The frustrating part of the whole situation was knowing Alphonso Tripoli and Salvatore Bianchi had been out on bond, able to walk around like they didn’t have a care in the world.
While I’d doubled security and asked for a little help from some associates of mine—those I’d trusted explicitly with my life.
Eventually, I knew deep down the only way Stephanie would truly be free of the torment was to eliminate the threat myself.
However, until the trial was over, I couldn’t risk it.
I wouldn’t put myself or my family back in the crosshairs of the FBI.
Even if it meant knowing Stephanie would be freer than she was now.
“I agree.” I wiped my mouth and took a sip of my coffee. “Roman is beginning to look like your brother.” I thought if I changed the subject, it would lighten the tension filling her shoulders.
She grinned. “He is. I found him downstairs yesterday watching Kyle spar with Robbie.”
“Sounds like our son,” I said with a soft chuckle. “Are you sure you’re feeling well enough for this?”
“I am,” Stephanie replied, her gray eyes darkening with determination. “I want to see the look on his face when his world is destroyed for good.”
There she was. “Good. Then we should get going.”
Mrs. Petry came out of the pantry just as we stood. Hiring a nanny was in the works. Until everything was settled, I wanted an extra set of eyes on Roman. “You have an appointment tonight. Don’t forget.”
“We won’t,” I replied. “We should be gone until this afternoon. Should anything happen, call Benny.”
Mrs. Petry nodded. “Of course.”
I’d just helped Stephanie into her coat when my phone rang. Surprised, I answered it without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Mr. Daidone,” a man said, “My name is Mr. Graves. I thought it prudent you hear this from me before the information hits the media.”
My gut twisted. Instantly, I went on alert, stopping Stephanie from stepping outside. “Oh, and what is this information you have for me?”
“Alphonso Tripoli and Salvatore Bianchi are dead, murdered last night in Bianchi’s home in Upstate New York,” Mr. Graves said.
“And you know this how?” I pressed.
“A little birdy told me,” he replied. “You’ll be receiving a phone call from the federal courthouse soon, I’d imagine. Things have a way of moving fast in our line of work. Don’t they?”
Gritting my teeth, I gripped the phone tightly. “Are you threatening me or my family?”
“Nothing of the sort,” Mr. Graves said. “Only delivering a message. Your wife is free now. So is your daughter. Have a happy life, sir.”
Before I could ask any more questions, the call was ended. A moment later, and sure enough, as Mr. Graves said, the court called, just as a breaking news bulletin flashed on the screen of the television Mrs. Petry was watching.
“We’re coming to you live from the federal courthouse in Downtown Manhattan...”
“Hello?” I answered the call, watching the reporter. “Yes, this is Mr. Daidone...”
“Court has been cancelled today, sir,” the woman said. “The DA’s office will contact you when arrangements are made. Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.”
I tilted my head, confused by her statement, but gave my thanks before hanging up. “Tripoli and Bianchi are dead.”
Stephanie nodded, staring at the television as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Is it over?”
I joined her then, wrapping my arm around her. “I believe so, darling.” I kissed her temple. “Though, I wonder who could have done this.”
Stephanie snorted. “I can only imagine the possibilities.”
True, they’d made several enemies along the way. “Guess that’s not our issue any longer.”
“Nope.” She grinned. “I’m feeling better already.”
Yes. So was I.
Christmas, Ten years later...
I stared at the long thin box in my hand, a present from my wife before the children would demand our attention, and we’d have no time for ourselves. If there was anything I knew about Stephanie, it was that she’d forever keep me on my toes. This present proved it.
“What’s this, sweetheart?” I murmured, removing the ribbon so I could open it.
“Oh, you know,” she hummed. “Something special for you.”
I pulled the top from the box and stared at the digital test. Pregnant . I glanced at Stephanie, who had her palm nestled against the small roundness growing there. Beneath the test were two photos. “Twins?” A and B photos shown two distinct fetuses growing within my wife’s belly. “How... When?”
She laughed. “Well, if you’re not sure how.” She squealed when I rolled her under me. “I didn’t find out until last week. We’re almost four months along.”
Because of the damage she and her brother had done to themselves while being on the run, they never put on weight like they should have and Kyle, though a strapping six-foot, had also stunted himself.
Pregnancies were difficult for Stephanie as well, not in terms of sickness, but her stature, had led to all our children’s births being cesarean sections.
To say I was worried would be an understatement.
Though, I was excited to know we’d be adding to our family.
“How do you feel?” I kissed her forehead before sliding down her body to nestle my head to her belly.
“Fine. I made it through the worst part.” She ran her fingers through my hair. “I’m glad all of our children are home. It’s nice when Rocca can be here with all of us.”
I agreed. “One more year and she’ll be a college graduate with opportunities neither of us had when we were starting out.”
“I am so proud of her. I know Rosalina would be too.”
In the years since her murder investigation had been closed, along with Stephanie and Kyle’s parents’ case, we had created a domestic violence shelter along with a runaway shelter for kids who couldn’t go home.
Between the two over the last ten years, we’d saved countless lives.
It felt good to save people. I’d had so much blood on my hands for a long time, now this charity work saved me.
I’d always be in Stephanie’s debt because she’d brought the light I’d snuffed out years ago, back.
“Kyle should be here soon too,” I murmured. “I’ve heard good things from Thorne. He has an eye for business and is taking the Oak View 9 to new heights alongside Onyx and the guys. Guess that college education paid off.”
She laughed. “I’m always going to worry about him. But he’s found his place, and he’s happier than he’s ever been.”
He was also keeping the boys away from Rocca, something Stephanie and I would have to talk about later.
Until then, I sighed and nodded, content with my life after all these years.
I had just leaned up to kiss my wife again when a knock came at our bedroom door.
It appeared we were out of time and the day’s activities were about to begin.
With or without us.
“We’ve been summonsed,” Stephanie whispered. “We should get up before they riot.”
I laughed. “Yes we should.” I slipped from bed, grabbing my sleep pants from the edge of the bed before stepping into them.
My robe was next as I went to the door to open it.
There she stood, a spitting image of her mother.
Grey eyes, pink cheeks, and a head full of wavy brown hair.
Our Emerson. She celebrated her seventh birthday on Halloween, but she was going on thirty-five. “Yes, my love?”
“I’ve gathered everyone at the tree,” she said in the most authoritative voice. “I thought you and mommy should know.”
“Thank you, baby,” Stephanie called out, joining me as she tied her robe around her waist. “We’ll be right down. Has Rocca returned yet?”
Emerson’s head bobbed excitedly. “She got home a little while ago. Uncle Kyle is with her and they’re making breakfast and coffee.”
“Perfect.” We followed Emerson downstairs to the living room of our new home and found our children on the couch near the tree.
After our first born, Roman, came along, we knew the estate was too small, even with the cottage, and to be honest, I hated the layout.
When we went house shopping, we found a colonial revival that was perfect and spoke more to the family I wanted to have instead of the lifestyle I led as the head of the Daidone Family.
Speaking of Roman, he passed out presents to Frankie, our three-year-old son, and Maxine, our five-year-old daughter. When we stepped into the room, the children’s faces lit up with joy and excitement. This part of being a parent would never get old. “Good morning everyone, Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” they replied as they waited ever so patiently for their mother and me to allow them to rip into their gifts.
“We have something to tell all of you,” Stephanie said, wrapping her arm around my side. “It’s a pretty big present.”
“What’s going on?” Kyle asked, wiping his hand on a towel as he came out of the kitchen, Rocca hot on his heels.
“We’re pregnant,” Stephanie said. “With twins. We’re going to have two more babies.”
Rocca gasped while the others were a mix of horror and elation, just as I’d expected out of them. Kyle hugged his sister first, then shook my hand before hugging Rocca. The children spoke all at once, asking question after question. Some we could answer, others not so much.
“Let’s not crowd your mother. We’ll answer all of your questions when we can,” I said, guiding everyone back to their waiting presents. “Come on now, our big present’s open, now we have all of this loot from Santa to go.”
Later, after all the excitement of the day was over, and we were back in bed, I held my wife close.
Ten years ago, this precocious woman stepped into my life, tearing it apart in a whirlwind of danger and intrigue.
Every day since then, I’d become a better man.
I can’t say I’d know where I’d have ended up if she hadn’t come into my life, challenging me—standing up to me, but I knew for sure, I wouldn’t be this happy, and I probably wouldn’t be alive. She made life worth living.
Her and my children.
I was the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
Pressing my lips to her neck, I whispered, “I love you forever. You are my everything.”
“I love you too,” she replied, turning her head slightly. “You’re my everything as well.”
THE END