Epilogue
T he car slows to a stop, and I feel my heart skip a beat. We’re here—the place I once called home, the house I swore I’d never return to. Gio squeezes my hand, his touch grounding me.
“Ready?” he asks softly.
I nod, not trusting my voice. As we step out of the car, I’m struck by how different everything looks. The gardens, once overgrown and neglected, now burst with vibrant colors. Bright flowers sway in the gentle breeze, their sweet scent filling the air.
Gio leads me up the familiar path, now lined with new stonework. The house itself looks… lighter somehow. The dark, imposing structure of my memories has been transformed. Large windows catch the sunlight, and I can see glimpses of a bright interior.
“You’ve been busy,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gio smiles, a mix of pride and nervousness in his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you. I hope I didn’t overstep…”
As we enter, I’m overwhelmed by the changes. The heavy, oppressive atmosphere is gone, replaced by an airy, open feel. But it’s not until we reach the living room that I truly lose my composure.
There, above the mantle, hangs my mother’s portrait. The sight of her smiling face, captured in oils and preserved in time, brings me to my knees. Tears flow freely down my cheeks as a lifetime of memories washes over me.
Gio is there in an instant, strong arms lifting me up. “Hey,” he murmurs, “you aren’t supposed to cry. It’s okay to be happy. Happy cries are allowed.”
I laugh through my tears, burying my face in his chest. “They’re happy tears, I promise.”
We move through the house, each room holding new surprises. In what used to be a guest bedroom, I find a fully equipped nursery. I turn to Gio, eyes wide with question.
He holds up his hands, a soft smile on his face. “Not now,” he assures me. “I won’t tie you down like that. You’re going to travel, see the world, enjoy your life first. But this will be waiting for us when we’re ready.”
His words warm my heart, and I pull him in for a kiss. When we part, he continues, “I know you said you’d never live here again, and we don’t have to. We have business and family in Chicago, and we can visit often. When we do, if you like, we can stay here. I’ve learned that running from painful memories only makes them stick more. The key is to make art out of the scraps that remain behind.”
He leads me out to the garden, where a stunning sculpture stands as the centerpiece. “This was created from things that couldn’t be saved,” Gio explains. He calls out, and a tall, statuesque woman approaches. “Jeniah, I’d like you to meet Blaise Zephyr, the artist behind this piece.”
Blaise is striking, with smooth dark skin and a muscular frame that speaks of both strength and grace. Her hair is styled in intricate braids that frame her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and intelligent eyes. Even in her classic low-top gym shoes, she’s impressively tall.
As we chat with Blaise, Atlas joins us, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the artist’s appearance. Suddenly, he blurts out, “What kind of name is that?”
We all turn to stare at him, shocked by the uncharacteristic rudeness. Atlas, usually so smooth, looks flustered. But before he can backtrack, Blaise’s eyes narrow, and she responds with a sharp wit that leaves him looking both chastised and intrigued.
“It’s Creole,” she says, her voice cool and controlled. “I’m from Louisiana, where men treat women with respect and rude comments are a sign of low class.” Her gaze sweeps over Atlas, unimpressed. “But I suppose not everyone has the benefit of a good upbringing.”
Atlas opens his mouth, clearly searching for a response, but Blaise isn’t finished. She turns to Gio and me, her expression softening. “It was a pleasure meeting you both. I truly hope this piece brings you a lifetime of joy.”
With that final ding to Atlas’s ego, she turns on her heel and walks away, her stride purposeful and dignified. Atlas stands there, mouth still slightly agape, looking as if he’s been struck by lightning.
When Atlas excuses himself, presumably to chase after Blaise and attempt damage control, Gio and I share an amused look. “That was… unusual for him,” I comment, unable to keep the laughter from my voice.
Gio nods, a mixture of surprise and amusement on his face. “I’ve never seen Atlas so… flustered,” he agrees. “Blaise certainly left an impression.”
After the excitement dies down, Gio turns to me with a serious expression. “What do you really think about all this, Jeniah? Even if you hate it, we can put it up for sale. The improvements will give you a better return on investment.”
I take a moment to truly consider his words, to examine my feelings. This place holds so many memories—both painful and precious. But as I look around at the changes Gio has made, at the love and care he’s poured into every detail, I realize something important.
“I love it,” I say finally, my voice firm with conviction. “I’ll never sell it. Because even with all the changes, the love remains. And now it’s infused with your love as well.”
Gio’s face lights up with joy, and he pulls me close. As our lips meet in a tender kiss, I feel a sense of peace wash over me. This house is no longer just a reminder of what I’ve lost. It’s a symbol of what I’ve gained—a new life, a new love, and a future full of possibilities.
As we break apart, I rest my head on Gio’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?” he asks, his fingers gently combing through my hair.
“For everything. For giving me a home again. For loving me enough to face the past instead of running from it.”
Gio tilts my chin up, his eyes meeting mine. “Always,” he promises. “Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”
And as the sun sets over our renewed home, painting the sky in brilliant hues, I know that this is just the beginning of our story. There will be challenges ahead, no doubt. But with Gio by my side, and the strength I’ve found within myself, I’m ready for whatever the future holds.
After all, we’re family now. And family faces everything—the good, the bad, and everything in between—together.
The End
Meet the Gatakis
Get ready to fall for Greece’s most irresistible family.
Discover the Gataki family’s private Greek paradise, where love strikes as swiftly as lightning and burns just as hot.
These powerful mafiosos thought they ruled their world—until love turned it upside down.
From secret babies to arranged marriages, each Gataki man meets his match in a swoon-worthy story of love, loyalty, and family ties.
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Mafia Book Boyfriend : She wants a Mafia boyfriend. Xander will show her he’s not a boy, and he has no intention—zero—of being friends.
Protected by the Greek : Nicos is supposed to watch her body; who’s watching her heart… or his? Will the forever playboy meet his match?
Promised to the Greek : Jeniah refuses the marriage her father arranged for her. She doesn’t care about threats or how hot Gio is…