Epilogue
Kit
It’s been three months since everything changed.
The estate garden looks like something out of a dream tonight.
Lavish flowers spill over every surface…
deep reds, soft creams, and rich greens woven through arches and tables.
Strings of warm lights hang overhead, glowing softly against the evening sky.
Soren brought in five-star chefs for the day so Lorraine and her team could actually relax and enjoy themselves for once.
No one’s working tonight, except for the guards who are rotating discreetly so it doesn’t feel like a fortress.
Everyone is dressed up, laughing, drinking, and dancing.
And I’m married. I still can’t believe it. My name is now Christopher Sinclair; it feels surreal every time I think about it. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a fever dream, if I’m actually lying in a hospital bed somewhere with my face split open, imagining a life where Soren Sinclair chose me.
I run my fingers absentmindedly over the flat scar on my face; it’s healed remarkably well.
The doctor said it’ll take another six months or so to fade into a silvery tone.
I’ve come to terms with it now; it’s part of me and it tells a story.
I even find a strange kind of satisfaction in the way new people react to it…
that awkward moment where they try so hard not to stare.
I laugh quietly as Armen attempts some truly terrible dance moves. “I need another drink if I have to watch that all night.”
The music is still blasting and most people are dancing, but I wander over to the table where Soren’s parents are sitting, champagne flutes in hand.
“May I sit?”
Harriett looks up and beams. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
I grin and slide into the chair beside her. Dominic gives me a warm nod.
Harriett leans in with a tipsy wink. “I’m your mother-in-law now.”
I laugh. “Yep. That’s how it works.”
Dominic snorts, then catches himself and smiles. “It’s been a nice day, Kit.”
“I’m glad you could come,” I say sincerely.
They both smile at me, and Harriett reaches over to gently squeeze my hand. “Oh, like we would miss this.”
Dominic shakes his head, still grinning. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
Harriett glances around. “Where is he anyway?”
I take a sip of champagne and point across the garden to where Soren and Ray are standing deep in conversation, both holding glasses of whiskey like this is any other evening.
Harriett tuts. “Typical.” She looks at me with a playful smile. “You know, Dominic was the same on our wedding day.”
Dominic grins. “Meanwhile Soren was about three years old, trying to hide under Harriett’s dress because my colleagues looked scary.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding?”
Harriett thinks for a second, then laughs. “Oh yes! It was Mr. Romano… all covered in tattoos, very tall. He tried offering Soren a lollipop, but Soren cried and ran away.”
We all dissolve into laughter. Dominic gives a tipsy grin, and Harriett is laughing so hard at her own memory that she has to wipe her eyes.
The laughter must carry because suddenly Soren is here, sliding into the chair right next to me. His arm drapes over the back of my seat as he asks, “Dare I ask what’s so funny?”
I grin up at him, still chuckling. “Just baby Soren when a big scary guy offered him a lollipop and he ran and hid under Mommy’s wedding dress.”
Soren groans and rolls his eyes, running a hand over his face. “Great. Thanks for that.”
I laugh and nudge him gently. “It’s cute.”
He side-eyes me, raising a brow, but there’s a softness in his expression that makes my chest feel warm.
◆◆◆
I feel… really good. The champagne has loosened everything inside me, turning my blood warm and my confidence up.
After everything we’ve been through, I’ve finally settled into this version of myself, the one who isn’t afraid to push back, to tease, to be a little bit of a menace to the man I just married.
I spot him sitting at a table near one of the tall stone pillars, deep in conversation with a few people.
Soren looks devastating in his wedding suit, black tailored jacket still on, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, that expensive watch glinting on his wrist. Tall, broad, and powerful.
Mine. I don’t even think about it; I just start walking.
Ray’s mid-sentence when I reach them. I don’t hesitate; I turn and drop myself sideways onto Soren’s lap like it’s natural.
Soren’s words cut off instantly. His arm comes around my waist on pure instinct, steadying me.
Ray blinks, then smirks. “Well, hello.”
I grin, looping one arm around Soren’s neck and leaning in like I belong here… because I do.
“Don’t mind me,” I say sweetly, looking up at Ray. “Please continue. I love hearing about how you almost got your ass handed to you last month.”
Ray’s mouth twitches. “Cheeky little shit.”
Soren’s hand squeezes my hip in warning, but I can feel the low rumble of amusement vibrating through his chest.
I tilt my head back against his shoulder and look up at him with the most innocent expression I can manage. “Hi, husband.”
Soren’s jaw clenches, but his eyes darken with that familiar mix of exasperation and heat. “You’re pushing it tonight, Christopher.”
“Am I?” I ask, all sweet and fake-innocent, deliberately shifting in his lap. “I thought married people were allowed to sit on each other.”
Ray coughs into his drink and mutters something about needing another one before he witnesses a murder at a wedding. He wisely walks away.
Soren’s fingers dig into my hip. But his voice is low, just for me, rough against my ear. “Keep squirming like that and I’ll bend you over the nearest table in front of everyone. See how cocky you feel then.”
I shiver, heat pooling low in my stomach, but I don’t stop smiling. Instead, I turn my head and press a slow, teasing kiss just under his jaw.
“Promise?” I whisper.
Soren growls and tightens his arm around me so I can’t move an inch. “You’re enjoying yourself far too much tonight,” he mutters against my temple, voice dark.
I grin, cheeky and warm and completely unafraid. “I’m married to you. Of course I am.”
I sigh softly, stand up from his lap, and turn so I can straddle him properly, settling my knees on either side of his thighs. The fabric of his suit jacket feels smooth under my palms as I rest them on his chest.
“But seriously,” I say quietly.
Soren frowns, looking up at me. “What?”
I smile and reach up to play with his hair, threading my fingers through the dark strands. I lean in closer, my voice soft against his ear. “I love you.”
Soren huffs a quiet laugh, the sound warm. A grin tugs at his mouth as he looks at me. “Good.”
I raise a playful brow. “Oh, good? Is that all you’ve got?”
He pulls me down by the back of my neck and nibbles at the side of my throat, teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver. “I love you too, pretty thing.”
I hum contentedly, melting into him.
Soren’s hands settle on my hips. “So I’m allowed to sit on you now, huh?”
I laugh softly. “You can try, but I might not survive it.”
He grunts his version of a laugh and rests his forehead against mine, voice dropping to a whisper only I can hear. “I’m so fucking glad you made it off that boat, Christopher.”
The words hit me harder than I expect. I frown, emotions flooding through me all at once. I know Soren only brings it up when he’s feeling emotional, or worried, or when the memory creeps up on him and he hates what happened to me.
I pull back just enough to cup his face with both hands. “Don’t think about that,” I whisper, stroking my thumbs over his cheeks. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
Soren nods, eyes softening, holding me tighter. “Let’s go to bed.”
I grin. “It’s not even ten yet.”
He shrugs, already standing up with me still wrapped around his waist. “We’ve been doing this all day, baby. I’ve got what I wanted. Now I want to fuck it and go to sleep.”
I laugh, half-embarrassed, half-delighted. “Charming. Does ‘it’ get a say?”
Soren starts walking, carrying me easily toward the house. “I think it will soon change its mind.”
I grin and wrap my legs tighter around him. “Are we not saying bye to anyone?”
“They either live here or are sleeping here tonight anyway,” he says. “We can see them in the morning.”
“Fair enough,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Take me to bed.”
Soren growls low in his throat and leans in to bite at my bottom lip, possessive and hungry.
◆◆◆
We barely make it through the bedroom door before Soren sets me down on my feet. He turns and closes it with a firm click; the sound echoing like a final declaration that the rest of the world is now shut out.
Then he moves back toward me, eyes locked on mine like a predator who’s finally cornered his prey.
My heart kicks hard in my chest. He stops right in front of me, towering, and lifts my left hand.
His thumb brushes over the sleek black wedding band on my ring finger.
Without breaking eye contact, he brings my hand to his mouth and slowly, seductively sucks my ring finger between his lips.
I shiver hard. The wet heat of his tongue slides over the band and my skin, possessive and filthy.
He holds my gaze the entire time, sucking gently, deliberately, like he’s worshipping the symbol of what we just promised each other.
When he finally releases my finger with a soft pop, he quietly commands, “You never take this off. You die with this on.”
I feel dizzy with want. “Only if you do the same,” I whisper, voice shaky.