Epilogue
Max
The frame of a man is outlined by city lights on the balcony of the penthouse when I walk in after a night out with Becca.
The living room is dark and the shadows are unforgiving, but I’m in the safest place in the world.
I slip my boots from my feet by the wall, dropping my coat, scarf and bag on the couch as I walk towards the balcony doors.
I slip a door open and the winter air stings my skin.
Snow falls around the night-shrouded man, leaning on his elbows on the snow-covered, stone balcony railing in front of me.
“Hey, mystery man,” I whisper, sliding my arm around his waist from behind.
“Hi, beautiful.” The golden-green of his eyes flickers with the city lights, brighter because of the reflection of the lights on the snow. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes, but I ditched the muscle three hours ago.” I let out a giggle.
“You know,” he says, turning to face me, both hands around my shoulders now. “The backup muscle is always there, just hanging a bit farther behind you so when you ditch the A team, they’re there to pick up the slack.”
“Maybe, but it’s more fun to pretend we slipped away from our secret service detail like we are in a president’s daughter movie from 2004.” I smile up into his laughing face.
“Fair enough.” He kisses my forehead and sighs. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“How was your day?” I press my head against his chest within the embrace as we look out on the city.
“Another day of trying to find the good side of it all, nothing exciting.” I feel him shake his head above mine. “Nico made a mess, I cleaned it up; bet we do it all again tomorrow.”
He’s worked so hard to lift the business out of the trenches, find ways of making it legitimate and good.
He set up community service for a bunch of the guys—can you picture that? Like Paulie and Silvio working down at the assistance league center sorting donations?
Except it’s Gio and Rudi.
Okay, fine, it’s more like they donate money and put on fundraisers for families in need, and hand out free breakfasts and lunches during school breaks to help make sure kids aren’t going hungry. But Nico and the rest of the guys are trying really hard to fit into the ‘legit’ side of things.
When Cal came back fully, one of the first things he did was tell them they were no longer on the offensive. He said being on the offensive was what got them caught up in the grey on the morality scale; what got them in the Volkovs' crosshairs to begin with.
But Nico and some other guys are still operating in the grey for what they unofficially call The Conflict Resolution Department—Nico clearly picked the name.
It’s all a big step in the right direction.
Meanwhile, the business needed a new attorney on the books, since their previous one was, well, officially promoted to boss.
Which means I’m free to work pro bono hours most of my days, with some occasional needs from the family business.
Which is better than any job offer I could have gotten after passing the bar, because it means I can take whichever cases I want and not charge my clients a penny…
while also getting to stare at Cal on the days we work from home.
The family business has never been better.
And it is, almost officially now, my family, too.
Cal proposed in August: ‘We waited almost ten years, I’m not waiting another day.’
We are planning something small in the spring, no frills, even though his mom and sister are desperately trying to make it the biggest event of the season.
Becca, as Maid of Honor, is under strict orders to make it the absolute opposite of their wishes.
She’s living a few blocks down since she is thriving in another job Nico found for her within the business. He bugs her more than necessary. In fact, I’m not even sure he has anything to do with the company he got her a position at, but somehow he’s always there. Which was fine, until it wasn’t.
Becca threatened to quit, then Nico offered her a raise. To which she promptly announced to him and Cal, in a thick accent, ‘Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.’
Nico demanded she, begrudgingly, sign a non-disclosure agreement since she won’t stop with the mafia references, but ever since then, I think she’s coming around to Nico being… Nico.
“It’s cold, my love,” I whisper into his thick shirt. “Come warm me up.”
I step back and pull his arm towards the doors.
A slow smile creeps along his face and his hand reaches out for me, but my feet are already carrying me away.
His laugh is booming up into the tall ceilings of the living room while I’m already bounding through the open door and running for the bedroom.