Epilogue

ANDREA

Hudson hasn’t let me out of his sight since we got home two nights ago, and quite frankly, his hovering is starting to get on my nerves. “Don’t you feel cooped up in here? Don’t you want to work in the privacy of your study?” I ask.

He glances up from his laptop, “No, I’m fine.”

Well, I am not fine. I grit my teeth and try to think of how to send him out of the bedroom, or better yet, how I can leave the bedroom without him on my tail. It’s bad enough when Max trails behind me everywhere I go, but now Hudson as well?

As I watch him, I have to admit that I secretly like it. It makes me feel wanted, no, needed.

“You know, you never told me how you became the don.” He goes eerily still. I’ve been curious about that ever since I read an article about him long ago, but doubly so after Dominic Rossi”s words the other night.

I would have been the one controlling the city if he hadn’t swooped in and stolen it from me.

From the little I gleaned from Diane, he rose to power after the death of the previous family.

“Is this because of what Dominic said the other night?” he asks, closing his laptop. He gets up from the armchair and makes his way to where I’m sitting cross legged on the bed.

“Partly…and partly because I want to know everything about you. It’s only fair since you know so much about me.”

He sighs, “It’s not pretty, and it’s not a good story to tell you during your recovery.” He pauses when I narrow my eyes on him.

I hate that he’s been treating me like an invalid. It’s not as if I even was seriously hurt during the scuffle or anything. “I have a small concussion and some bruises, Hudson. So are you going to tell me, or just keep stalling?”

“I actually have something I want to give you.” He starts to get up, and I grab his hand to stop him.

“After. You can give me whatever it is after you tell me.”

His gaze searches mine intensely for several seconds, then he gives in and starts to relate, “It’s a long story.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we happen to have time on our hands,” I reply cheekily.

He doesn’t crack a smile. I shift to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers. He tightens his grip on my hand, his gaze meeting mine briefly. “I grew up dirt poor,” he starts, and I move closer to him on the bed.

“My mother’s boyfriend got her pregnant when she was seventeen and promptly skipped out. So it was just Mom and me. She had to drop out of high school and gave up going to college; but this meant she could never find good paying jobs. She had to work odd jobs as a cleaner or a sales clerk. You name it. She was juggling three different jobs at any given time.”

I squeeze his hand when he pauses, and his gaze drops to our joined hands. “This continued until I was eleven, and she got a job cleaning the mansion of a very rich and powerful man: Alberto Mancini.”

I gulp, sensing where this story might be going. I know who Alberto Mancini is. The don Hudson took over from.

“Mom quit her other jobs because this new one was paying big bucks; for a short while we lived a comfortable, happy life. Until a year later when Mom came home from work, her eyes swollen from crying. She suddenly started packing all of our stuff and talking about running away.

“I didn’t understand why we had to move, and I didn”t like it, but we did. We moved from Providence to Wickford village. Mom went back to working multiple jobs. But it wasn’t really sustainable anymore because she always seemed to be sick. A few months later, I realized why: she was pregnant. I didn’t really understand how she had gotten pregnant. Whenever I asked, she’d just start crying. I learned not to question her because I didn’t like her being upset. She gave birth to a baby girl, Sarah.”

I inhale sharply. I had never heard of a sister before. I know this isn’t going to end well, and my heart aches for the young boy Hudson was.

“One day, when Sarah was two, armed men showed up at our house. Mom had asked me to babysit, but I was thirteen and thought it would be fine to let her nap while I was outside with friends. When I got back, Sarah’s lifeless body was on the floor and Mom was kneeling next to her, sobbing as a man pressed a gun to her head.

“Mom was the first to see me and yelled at me to run. She was still screaming at me when the bullet hit her. I jumped back and ran as fast as I could.”

I curl closer into him, hating his closed-off face. It can’t be easy for him to relive his painful past. He gives me an absent smile when I place my head on his shoulder.

“I eventually ended up in a private orphanage. I found out that the man who had me taken into the organization was none other than Alberto Mancini, Mom’s previous employer. When I was old enough, I ran away from the orphanage and changed my name from Hudson Moor to Massimo Moratti. I learned Italian. Then I infiltrated Alberto’s organization as a foot soldier. The longer I spent working with him, the more I learned. Alberto had raped a cleaner years ago; and when the cleaner told him she was pregnant, he tried to kill her…but she ran away. His men later found the cleaner and killed her and the bastard child she had given birth to.”

No. I lift my head up to glance at him but his eyes are far away.

“I made it my life’s mission to destroy Alberto, starting with ending him and everything he held dear. I killed him eventually; and while his flesh was rotting in his own house, I took over his city.”

When Hudson had finished with his story, he glances at me with an odd expression. “There, now you know I’m really the monster everyone says I am. Happy?”

“I’m not happy to learn about what you had to go through, Hudson, but I’m so glad you told me.”

“What? You’re not going to run away from me screaming?” he asks defensively, lips curled in a snarl. I pause, wondering if someone’s reacted that way to him before.

“No, I’m not. Because I don’t think you’re a monster,” I state truthfully, but he scoffs in disbelief. I let go of his hand and crawl into his lap, holding his handsome face between my hands. I bark, “You listen to me right now, Hudson. I don’t think you’re a monster at all. I think you did what you had to do.”

His lips part in surprise, his eyes flaring. “You think if someone hurts you or any member of my family I’d just let them go? No, I’d go after them with all my might. So thinking you’re a monster for doing the exact same thing I would do is hypocritical, and that’s just not me.”

His hand settles on the small of my back and pulls me close. “How did you stumble into my life?” he grumbles, looking emotional.

“Simple. I was minding my own business one day when you kidnapped me.”

He chuckles and bends his head forward to press a soft kiss to my mouth. I part my lips in invitation and he takes it, entwining his tongue with mine. I moan as a shock of pleasure runs through me, and my hand slides into his hair.

“No, wait, hold on.” Hudson breaks the kiss with a pant. “I said I have something to give you.”

“Later,” I mutter impatiently, shoving at his chest to push him back on the bed.

He chuckles, grabbing my hands. “Andrea, you’re going to love it, I promise.”

I push myself off his lap with a huff. “Alright, get on with it.”

He chuckles again as he gets to his feet and walks to our closet. “Why are you going in there, Hudson. Come on.”

“Just be patient,” he reprimands me. I roll my eyes and wait extra impatiently for him to return. In just a few seconds, he is holding a square box that suspiciously looks like a ring box.

“What is that?” I stammer and narrow my eyes on it.

He comes to a stop in front of me and snaps the box open. Sure enough, there’s a stunning sapphire on a platinum band nestled inside the box. It’s about half the size of my original ring, which he was able to retrieve from the Rossi men during their interrogation. “I want to ask you to marry me properly.”

“Hudson–” I make my left hand into a fist as he picks it up. “Beautiful as that ring is, I don’t want it. I already have one.”

He pauses, his brows arching. He offers, “You said it’s too big.”

“It is too big, but just like you, I got used to it,” I snicker; his eyes darken as he gets my double entendre. He closes the box with an audible snap and throws it over his shoulder as he reaches for me.

“So, you’ve gotten used to my size now, huh?”

“You could even say that I’m attached to it now,” I murmur seductively sidling up to his chest.

“Good. Because I’ve grown very attached to you as well.” He presses his mouth against mine. I grin into the kiss as I wrap my hands around his neck.

The End.

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