Epilogue
Remi
ONE YEAR LATER
Daylight
“I’m not asleep, and I see you.”
Thiago’s groggy voice comes from beside me, catching me trying to sneak a peek out the window. We’ve been in the air for a couple of hours, and it should be dark by now, but then again, that depends on where we’re going.
After a beautiful and intimate reception, my new husband informed me that we’d be boarding a private jet, our destination was a surprise, and my only instructions were to pack light and not ask questions.
I trust this man with my whole heart. I’d go anywhere he asked me to.
But trusting him and minding my own business are apparently two very different things.
I turn toward him, adjusting my skirt as I uncross and recross my legs for the hundredth time. Ten hours in a wedding dress has a way of making even the most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn start to feel like a personal attack.
“I was just trying to see if we were flying over water or land. And it’s not like I’m going to spot any street signs from up here.”
He opens his eyes and chuckles, reaching for me and pulling me onto his lap. “My wife is very curious, isn’t she?”
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him call me that. Even after we said our vows, there’s still something almost unreal about knowing I’m his wife and he’s my husband.
Gripping his loosened shirt collar, I trace the tip of my nose along his cheek. “You rushed me out of my own wedding reception and whisked me away to some mysterious destination. It’s been hours, baby. You know I don’t have this kind of self-restraint.”
Thiago cups my face gently, his expression turning serious. “You trust me, right?”
“With everything,” I whisper, covering his hand with mine.
“I promise you’ll love it. I won’t even have to tell you. The moment we get there, you’ll know.”
I nod and settle into his touch. “Okay. But in the meantime, call me your wife again.”
That grin I love so much spreads across his face before he leans in and kisses me slowly.
“Have I told you how drop-dead gorgeous you looked today, wife?”
“Not in the last ten minutes,” I murmur against his lips.
“The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” His hand slides over the fabric at my waist. “And this dress… Fuck, this dress.”
It was the first one I tried on, and I didn’t need to see any others. The moment they laced it up and I stood in front of the mirror, I knew it was the one I wanted to wear down the aisle to the love of my life.
Black lace, just like mom’s.
The way Thiago looks at me now tells me he’s a lot less interested in how good I look in it than how quickly he can get his wife out of it.
“Don’t even think about ripping it.”
His grin turns downright sinful. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. I know that look.”
He only looks more pleased with himself before he catches my mouth in another kiss, distracting me from the way he’s been staring at my dress like he’s already planning its demise.
A few hours later, the change in pressure has me looking toward the window again. This time, Thiago doesn’t stop me. The plane dips lower, and lights stretch across the ground beneath us as we make our descent. I glance at the time on my phone, then back outside.
Just over four hours in the air, and my brain immediately starts doing the math.
Depending on our speed and how much time we spent climbing and descending, we’ve traveled somewhere around fifteen hundred miles. We’re also an hour behind Philadelphia, which narrows things down.
“We’re somewhere in Texas.”
Thiago’s mouth curves. “That a question?”
“No.” I point at him. “And don’t look so impressed. You married a woman who calculates quarter-mile times for fun.”
“I married a woman who was supposed to stop asking questions.”
“Yeah, that was never going to happen.” I lean closer to the glass when something brushes against my hand. I turn to find Thiago holding a black silk blindfold.
“No.”
He laughs. “Again, I haven’t said a word.”
“You’re holding a blindfold. I don’t need a full briefing to know where this is going.”
“Turn around, chama.”
“Absolutely not. I just spent four hours narrowing down an entire country, and now you want to take away my last chance to figure this out?”
He shifts closer, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “You said you trust me.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m making this easy for you.”
“Humor your husband, Remi Isabel Braga.”
I give him a look. “You’re already abusing the husband privileges.”
“I’m testing the limits.” He lifts the blindfold between us. “Now, turn around, wife.”
There he goes with that word again. I sigh dramatically, send him a wink, then gather my hair over one shoulder as I turn my back to him.
“If you mess up my hair, I’m taking it off.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
The silk slides carefully over my eyes, and whatever chance I had of solving his little mystery disappears into darkness.
When the plane lands, I let him escort me down the stairs and into a waiting car. The humidity hits me almost immediately, which only makes my Texas theory more plausible. It would make sense. This is where Thiago grew up, and where his aunt still lives.
At first, the rush of freeway traffic surrounds us, but after a while, it fades until all I can hear is the steady hum of tires against pavement. We’ve left the city behind, and judging by how little else I hear outside the car, we’re probably somewhere more rural now.
“Can I look yet?”
His lips brush my cheek. “So impatient. We’re almost there. I promise.”
Just as I’m about to fire back, the car eases into a turn, and the smooth asphalt changes beneath the tires. A steady pattern of bumps and vibrations now travels through the cabin, almost like we’re driving over stone.
I sit up a little straighter because whatever he planned, we’re close now. And I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “Are we there yet?”
“Just a little more.”
“You know I’m armed, right?”
He laughs. “I’m banking on you loving this surprise, so I’m not expecting to get shot today.”
A few minutes later, Thiago leans in close, his breath brushing my ear.
“It’s time.”
My heart starts beating faster as he loosens the knot and the handkerchief slips away. I blink as my eyes adjust.
A pair of wrought-iron gates stands in front of us, framed by stone pillars and glowing beneath the warm lights lining the drive. My attention moves higher, following the ironwork until I see the words stretched across the top.
VILLA DORADA
I stop breathing.
My hand flies to my mouth as I try to process what I’m seeing.
“Thiago…” I whisper.
“You told me that you wanted to see this place for yourself.” His hand finds mine. “And I told you there isn’t a damn thing in this world you could ask of me that I wouldn’t do.”
“Baby, I don’t know what to say.”
Shit, I’m crying.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just take it all in.”
I nod, giving him a watery smile.
We pull onto the drive, and the second the car comes to a stop, I’m out the door.
All I can do is stare.
Villa Dorada is even more beautiful than I imagined from my mom’s stories and the photos I’ve seen over the years.
Warm golden light spills across the pale stone exterior, illuminating arched windows and balconies lined with intricate ironwork.
Smaller lights tucked throughout the landscaping cast a soft glow over beds of lush greenery that border the long cobblestone.
Everything looks golden beneath the night sky.
I walk toward the house slowly, trying to take in every detail at once. This is where she grew up. And somewhere on this property, my parents met and fell in love, beginning the story that eventually led to Gio and me. And now I’m standing here on my wedding night with my husband.
My eyes burn all over again.
The front steps lead to a pair of tall, dark metal doors. I stop in front of them and run my fingertips lightly over the ornate scrollwork on their surface.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Thiago says from behind me.
Whipping around, I throw myself into his arms. “Thank you. This is incredible.” I pull back to look at him. “You’re the best husband ever.”
“First day on the job and I’m already setting the bar pretty fucking high.”
We laugh, and I hook my arm around his neck, hauling him down to me for a kiss.
“Are you ready to go inside?” he whispers against my mouth.
I gasp softly and turn toward the doors again. I’ve spent my entire life hearing stories about what’s on the other side of them, and now I’m actually about to see it for myself.
“More than ready. But…can we? What about—?”
“It’s vacant.”
Thiago grips the large iron handles and pushes the doors open.
I can barely breathe as I step inside, staring in awe at the grand foyer with its gleaming marble floors and a sweeping staircase that curves toward the second floor. Blinking back tears, I imagine the space furnished and the Montesinos family, my family, moving through it.
“She stood right here. They both did.”
Before Thiago can say anything, excitement spills out of me in a laugh, and I take off toward the staircase, gathering my dress as I climb.
“Chama, where are you going?”
With a huge smile, I glance back at him. “Everywhere!”
I hurry down the hall until I come to a stop in front of a pair of tall double doors left slightly ajar, and push them open, stepping into a massive bedroom. I know this room. I’ve seen it in old photographs. The tall windows, the carved fireplace, the balcony doors overlooking the grounds.
This was Mamá’s room.
I walk farther inside, turning slowly as I try to picture her as the girl she was then, before my father, before Gio and me, and long before she became the woman I’ve always known.
“She slept here,” I whisper.
Thiago appears in the doorway behind me. “Yeah.”
I smile at him, even as my vision blurs again.
“This window,” I say, trailing my fingertips along the ledge. “She snapped a photo from here.”
I look out across the courtyard and spot something that makes my heart stutter. “And over there—”
“Her art studio,” he finishes.
I nod, lacing my fingers with his. “Come on!”