Epilogue #2
“I’m serious,” he whispered, over the hum of the engine, as the scenery blurred by. “With everything that’s happened. My father. My sister. Prison. I never thought to hope for happiness until you forced your way in and dug your claws so deep, there was no getting you out.”
Love and adoration radiated from him. Only I got this softer side of him, and it filled me with a deep sense of awe and devotion. I pressed my forehead to his.
“I can’t think of anyone better to hold my shattered pieces together. You’re my man, my heart, and my best friend.”
“These last seven months were only the beginning.”
Those words were a balm to the lingering heaviness the absence of my parents and Noah had left on my heart.
Lou and Boyan had patched up my broken pieces and kept me whole when I’d been on the verge of crumbling.
Tore and Vinny had been the glue that kept the pieces together when I’d still been fragile.
And Renzo, over the years, he’d become the frame surrounding the pieces, a constant presence of support, protection, care, and now love.
I couldn’t imagine my world without any of them, but him, most of all.
“We’ll have a lifetime of moments, civetta,” he said, his index drawing down my bottom lip. “You and me, forever.”
Even after the orgasm he’d already given me, I was heady with need. Honestly, had the car been parked—regardless of Jac being in the driver’s seat—I would’ve happily gotten to my knees, unzipped his pants, and deepthroated his cock for a start to round two.
“I have something for you,” he said, pulling me away from my thoughts.
From inside the car door pocket, he retrieved a square box about the width of my palm and set it on my lap.
I glanced at him curiously, then slid the top off to reveal a flower of life pendant, just like the one he often wore, on a beautiful flat-snake, gold chain. I peeked at his neck.
He chuckled. “Yes, it’s the one I wore. Now it’s yours.”
I picked up the pendant, the chain scraping along the box, and thumbed the intricate design. “It’s beautiful. Why give me this?”
“It was my mother’s. She believed everything in the world was connected one way or another.
Coincidences were the world’s way of balancing out the wrongs with the rights.
To her, everything served a purpose. Every action taken was just another branch on the web of destiny.
I think it was what she clung to so that her worst days still had meaning. ”
He fitted the pendant and chain around my neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to my throat. His earthy scent filled my nose, and the metal settled above my breasts like a mini shield over the top of my sternum.
“She always wore it, except the day she died, so I kept it as a way to stay close to her.”
“I can’t take this from you.”
He stayed my hand before I could unclasp it. “You can, and you will. After everything that happened between us, I think she’d want you to have it. I want you to have it.”
My eyes bounced between his. “Why?”
“You and I…we’re fate’s work. Two completely different people, born far apart, with nothing in common.
One of us good, the other not, and brought together by the worst moments of our lives.
If that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be…well then, to hell with the world because I’m keeping you. Forever. Fuck death do us part.”
I tossed my head back, laughing. “Next, you’ll start spouting sonnets.”
“For you, anything.” He forced my chin up and sucked my lower lip between his teeth. A slight lurch drove us closer, before the car pulled to a stop, and the engine turned off. “I’m going to make you the happiest bride.”
He sounded straight up smug about it when he hadn’t even proposed yet. I patted his chest.
“We’ll see.”
When Jac opened my door, I frowned, realizing I never asked Renzo where we were going.
“Why are we at the airport?”
Instead of answering, Renzo grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers, and walked me through one of the private terminals. Jac followed closely behind with our mysteriously packed luggage.
“Seriously, what’s going on?”
“Trust me.” He winked.
That only confused me more, but I went along with it through the baggage check and security.
“You know I’ve got rounds at the hospital tomorrow, right?”
He ignored that with a shrug and led me into a room where dozens of photos of different supercars were laid out on the floor in organized rows.
“What…is this?” I gaped at him, perplexed.
“I need your help picking out my next purchase.”
“But I know nothing about cars.”
He smirked. “True.”
I scratched my temple. “You want me to just pick one?”
He nodded. “Whichever you like best.”
“Okay…”
After walking down each row of pictures, I picked an Aston Martin. Not because I knew anything about the model, but because it was absolutely beautiful with a sleek design and not a single harsh angle to be found.
“Perfect,” was all he said. Then he tugged me into a hallway where a woman stood behind a table covered in color palettes and swatches. “Pick which colors you like best together. Three at least.”
An anxious chuckle escaped me. “Why?”
He kissed my head. “Trust me.”
Again, those two little words. I tilted my head to the side. This was so random, and so unlike him.
I placed the back of my hand against his forehead. No fever. “You feeling okay?”
He kissed my wrist and pulled my hand down. “I’m fine. Now pick.”
“Okay, okay.” I scanned the selection. “This blue, that dark purple, and peach.”
That done, he dragged me to another room. A line of people in chef uniforms lined one wall, each with a tray of some kind of food, and facing a lone chair and small table.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly with a wave.
Renzo directed me to the chair. “Sit. I’m going to blindfold you.”
I bit my lip and eyed him warily, not sure how I felt about being vulnerable in front of strangers.
“Trust you?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Alright. Do your worst.”
“Only my best for you.” His lips pressed to my head as a silky black blindfold covered my eyes.
“Now what?”
“You tell me which one you like best.”
“Which what?”
“Open wide.”
I obeyed, then thought better of it. “It’s not going to be your dick, is it?”
His laughter boomed, somehow louder without my sight. “You’ve never complained before.”
“We’ve never had this kind of audience.”
“Does that mean you’d be willing with a smaller crowd, civetta?” he whispered.
I quivered at the idea but shook my head, not willing to discuss how much I liked the thought of it in front of all these random people.
“There are fifteen samples here. Tell me which you like best.”
As a fork gently poked my lip, I knew it was cake from the buttery, sweet, bakery-made aroma.
Chocolate, red-velvet, vanilla, an alcohol flavor, lemon, carrot, berry, tiramisu, and more—almost all of them had my mouth watering for another bite, but I ended up picking the white chocolate raspberry flavor.
When I went to remove the blindfold, he stopped me.
“Keep it on. Just follow me.” He placed my hands on his waist and slowly guided me to another destination. Not far—it was maybe even in the same room, but definitely on the opposite side from where the chefs had stood.
“This part, I get to pick,” he said. “Then you’ll be off to your last stop before the grand finale.”
“Laying the mystery on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
“I have to keep you on your toes.”
“You do that just fine already.”
“Indulge me.”
Cool metal met my ears, and I flinched.
“Just earrings,” he said, his lips skimming my jawline. My face flushed at the innocent touch from my very corrupt man.
He pulled away and pressed another set of earrings to my earlobes, these ones a little heavy. He went from earring to earring with only a few comments from the vendors. Knowing Renzo, he probably made their silence a stipulation of whatever game he was playing.
“These are the ones. Put them on,” Renzo finally said, and I did as he asked.
The delicate pair dangled from my earlobes to halfway down my neck in strands that felt like leaves attached to stems.
I still had the blindfold on as Renzo directed me, by my waist, toward our last stop.
“This is where I leave you,” he told me before stealing a kiss. “Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting.”
Two new sets of hands grabbed me from in front and tugged me forward.
“We’ll take it from here.” That was Lou. “Now shoo.”
“What’s going on?” I asked as Lou dragged me further into a floral scented room.
Her crutches clacked against the carpeted floor. The door shut behind me, and the blindfold came off.
“Time to pick a dress,” Lou intoned, slipping her arm through mine while Bee came up on my other side. Both of their faces were glammed with dramatic makeup, and their hair was pulled back into elegant low buns.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Racks of designer wedding gowns blocked us in, with a makeshift changing room directly to our right and a small circular platform in front of a full-length trifold dressing mirror to the left.
“Are we ready to say yes to the dress?” A bubbly woman’s head peeked through the racks of gowns, and the garment bags crinkled. She stepped through from whatever was on the other side of these dresses, wearing plain black slacks and a pastel dress shirt that matched the cheer on her round face.
“She is,” Lou assured with a bob of her head.
I glanced around incredulously. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
With a mischievous smile, Bee signed, “It is.”
“But he never even proposed.”
“You sure about that?”