Epilogue 2 Dante
I’ve been holding myself back for months.
Wanting Scarlett so badly it physically hurts, but refusing to rush her recovery. Watching her nurse our daughter, seeing her body change and grow and heal, falling more in love with her every single day while keeping my hands to myself.
Now, watching her lean against our bedroom door with that look in her green eyes, the mixture of desire and mischief and love that’s only ever been for me, my control finally shatters.
I cross to her in two strides and kiss her like I’ve been dying for it. Because I have. Three months of restraint pouring into one desperate kiss that makes her gasp against my mouth.
She makes a little sound in the back of her throat, the one that drives me insane, and kisses me back just as desperately. Her hands are already tugging at my shirt, pulling the sweat-damp fabric up my torso.
I break the kiss long enough to yank it over my head and toss it aside. Then I reach for her sundress, sliding it up and off in one smooth motion that leaves her standing there in just her underwear.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I breathe, taking in the sight of her.
Her body has changed since Gabriella. Softer in some places, fuller in others. And I love every inch of it. This is the body that gave me my children. The body that survived battles and trauma and years of fear. The body that chose me anyway.
“I have stretch marks now,” she says, her hands moving self-consciously to cover her stomach. “And I haven’t lost all the baby weight yet.”
I silence her with a kiss. Deep and claiming and leaving no room for doubt.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her when I pull back. “You’re mine. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving how beautiful you are to me.”
I walk her backward to our bed, laying her down on sheets that smell like home and family and everything good I’ve managed to build. My hands trace appreciatively over her body, touching curves and dips, paying attention to all the places that make her breath catch.
When I cup her fuller breasts, she arches into my touch with a gasp.
“Gentle,” she whispers. “They’re still tender from nursing.”
“I’ll be gentle,” I promise, lowering my mouth to worship her carefully. I pay attention to her responses, easing off when she tenses, pressing forward when she sighs.
I take my time. Kiss down her stomach. Trace the stretch marks with my tongue until she’s squirming beneath me, her fingers tangled in my hair.
When I settle between her thighs and put my mouth on her, she cries out my name. I work her with my mouth and fingers, reading her body like I’ve memorized it because I have. Every gasp, every moan, every trembling response tells me exactly what she needs.
She’s trembling on the edge when I pull back and kiss my way up her body until I’m braced above her. Our eyes lock. Green meeting grey.
“I love you,” I tell her. “Everything we’ve survived, everything we’ve built, it’s all because you had the courage to call me that night. You saved me, Scarlett.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I love you too. So much it terrifies me sometimes.”
I enter her slowly, carefully, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. “Don’t be terrified. Be certain. Because I’m never letting you go.”
We make love with passion but also tenderness. Both of us gasping and demanding and taking what we need. When she comes around me, crying my name, I follow seconds later.
Afterward, we join our family for dinner.
I hold Gabriella while Luca tells everyone about the four goals he scored, which I’m pretty sure was only two but I don’t correct him.
Rosa scolds everyone affectionately while piling more food on plates, insisting we’re all too skinny even though none of us are.
Looking around the table at the chaotic, beautiful, perfectly imperfect family we’ve built from ashes, I catch Scarlett’s eye across the room.
She smiles at me. I smile back, that rare genuine smile I’ve been using more often lately. I mouth “I love you” and watch her cheeks flush.
After dinner, the kids are bathed and put to bed. I read Luca a story about dragons and brave knights, his eyes getting heavy by the second chapter. Then I check on Gabriella, who’s already asleep in her crib, her tiny fist pressed against her cheek.
Rosa has retired to her cottage at the edge of the property, the small house we built for her so she could be close but still have her own space.
She complained about it for weeks, insisting she didn’t need charity, but I’ve seen how happy she is here.
Surrounded by her grandchildren. Cooking Sunday dinners. Being part of a family again.
I find Scarlett in the kitchen, cleaning up the last of the dishes. I grab a towel and start drying without being asked. We work together in comfortable silence, moving around each other with the easy rhythm of people who’ve learned each other’s patterns.
When the kitchen is clean, she takes my hand and leads me out to the back porch.
The night is clear, stars brilliant overhead. The kind of sky you never see in the city. Out here, away from the lights and the noise and the chaos of our old life, the universe feels infinite.
I wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her back against my chest. We stand there looking up at the stars, listening to the crickets and the distant sound of an owl.
“I meant what I said that night after the cathedral,” I murmur against her hair. “I’d burn the world down for you again if I had to.”
Scarlett turns in my arms, looking up at me with those green eyes that still take my breath away.
“I know you would.” She reaches up to cup my face.
I kiss her. Slow and sweet and full of promise. Full of all the years we have ahead of us. All the memories we haven’t made yet.
I rest my forehead against hers. “I love our life, Scarlett. I love you. I love the family we’ve made. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
“Not even the parts where we almost died?”
“Those parts led us here. So no. Not even those.”
She laughs softly and burrows closer into my arms. We stand there under the stars, two people who found each other in the darkest circumstances and chose to build light instead of destruction.
A family formed in fire, tempered by love, and finally, beautifully, at peace.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading The Mafia King's Lost Son!