Epilogue 1
Natalya
Present
I push Kiara inside the room and shut the door behind us.
“So,” I begin. “Backstabbing little bitch, aren’t you?”
She turns to face me, looking noticeably nervous and completely caught off guard.
“Nat, I swear—”
“Calm down,” I cut her off. “I’m fucking with you.”
“Thank God,” she mutters before lazily dropping onto the bed.
I lean back against the door and let her sit in the silence for a moment, letting it stretch just enough before I break it to her.
“And as for making it fair—I just wanted to get away from them,” I say. “That’s all.”
“I figured.” She nods, though she still looks like she’s half-convinced I’m going to murder her in her sleep.
I still might.
“What I can’t wrap my head around is this—how did my brother, a thoroughly jealous and possessive person, let this happen?”
She exhales and crosses one leg over the other.
“Honestly, it happened during such a weird, specific moment. I think part of him still hated me, and the fact that Adrien was there just gave him permission to do it without turning it into something more.” She shrugs.
“Right.” I nod. “That totally makes sense,” I say dryly.
“Also, he obviously has a soft spot for him, and maybe, in that moment, he was just relieved that we were all alive and…” She pauses, nervously rubbing her hands together.
“And maybe it was just something we needed, I guess.” Her voice trails off before she looks back up at me. “It was stupid, really.”
I tilt my head, studying her. “What do you mean, glad that you were all alive?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again.
“Spill it,” I bark.
“Well,” she lets out a slow breath. “Adrien was a bit down the night before.”
“A bit down?”
“Or, actually… high.”
My brows shoot up. “So where was he? Down or high?”
Her eyes drift around the room as though she’s trying to decide how much she’s allowed to tell me.
“Kiara,” I say firmly. “Tell me everything.”
“Okay. Sorry.” She sighs. “He took some pills. A lot of them.”
The moment the words leave her mouth, it feels like someone has driven a fist straight into my stomach.
I push myself off the wall and sink onto the bed beside her, letting my body collapse into the sheets.
She mirrors me, and before long we’re lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling.
“He was hurting,” she continues quietly. “And I think we were all just really grateful to be alive. We had no idea what was waiting for us the next day, and it just kind of happened. But it was mainly about me and Kasien.”
“Yeah,” I murmur weakly, my chest tightening for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with their little adventure. “I know.”
Silence settles between us, broken only by the distant rush of waves rolling onto the shore outside.
“He said your name,” she adds suddenly.
I turn my head toward her, and she turns to look at me too.
“What?”
“He said your name before he passed out,” she repeats with an almost guilty smile.
And for some reason, it makes me cry.
I quickly wipe the tear away, trying to force down the images already flooding my mind—him hurting so badly that he retreated into some fucking pills.
“And also something Italian I didn’t catch,” she mutters.
The word hits me immediately.
“Selvaggia,” I whisper.
“What does it mean?” she asks.
“Wild one.”
She giggles. “Accurate.”
“God,” I breathe out through a grin, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. “He’s such an idiot.”
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth lifts into a smile, despair over all the years we lost tangling with the fragile happiness of all the years that still lie ahead of us.
Then a loud thud jerks us both upright.
The wall across from us trembles slightly, as if someone just slammed into it from the other side. Our heads snap toward each other, and then we both burst into laughter, neither of us particularly interested in whatever the hell is happening beyond that wall.
“We’re going out,” I announce, springing off the bed with a fresh surge of energy.
I dig through the bags of clothes and toss a dress in Kiara’s direction.
“Hustle!” I urge her with a clap of my hands. “We’re going to party,” I squeak as I start picking out something for myself.
Kiara hesitantly bunches the dress in her hands.
“You can’t drink, Nat,” she reminds me.
“Ugh.” I groan, frustration swallowing my entire existence all over again. “Give me a break, everyone. I know that. I’m not going to drink, obviously.”
“Okay, deal.” She finally gives in and starts changing into the dress.
“Oh, and we’re going alone,” I add while digging through another bag. “I want to make him suffer for a little while.”
A quiet chuckle drifts from the other side of the room.
“Fine,” she says. “I support that.”
?
The beach bar is packed, people moving and dancing to the rhythm of unmistakably southern music, the kind that seems to unlock a new level of energy in everyone who hears it.
Kiara sways beside me, her wavy hair flying around her as though she’s just crawled out of the sea and traded her seashell bikini for a dress.
For a moment, I imagine this is what my life was always supposed to look like. This is what my youth could’ve been if fate hadn’t decided to rip all of us apart.
Not becoming the psychotic girlfriend of another psychopath, reduced to a trophy for him to admire while I used him to construct my own barely survivable version of reality.
Lucien and I used each other.
Selfishly. Pathetically. Disgustingly.
He used me to dull his obsession and fill the empty space inside a life where nothing had ever truly belonged to him. And I let him own me while using him in return—as my protector and abuser wrapped into the same body.
I’ve spent a generous portion of my life shackled and half-absent, half-lost inside my own mind, and I’m officially done with that.
Now I’m free.
And even though I’ve somehow ended up in the possession of yet another lunatic and my overprotective brother, I’ve never felt more free.
But that tiny seed of ache is still lodged in my chest.
I haven’t recovered entirely. I let them believe I have, but it’s a lie.
I still doubt. Sometimes reality splits into two versions for the briefest moment. And sometimes, like now, I look around and feel as though I’m inside one endless dream.
But the dream is simply too good for me to question anymore.
The open-air bar is draped in colorful lanterns floating overhead like scattered yellow stars.
My feet sink into the sand as I move through it, the whole place built directly on the beach with the ocean only a few feet away, while a band wearing sombreros bigger than any I’ve ever seen keeps the atmosphere alive with relentless energy.
My gaze drifts toward the far side of the bar where the bartender’s counter stands.
They haven’t stopped watching us for a single second.
The two of them lean against the counter with cigarettes between their fingers, doing their absolute best to look inconspicuous, even though me and Kiara both know they followed us here the moment we walked out of the hotel.
I glance their way again just in time to catch Adrien making some subtle gesture toward Kasien.
A second later, my brother is already crossing the sand toward us.
Without so much as a word, he sweeps Kiara away from my side and practically kidnaps her into the crowd, disappearing with her before I can even process what just happened.
When I’m suddenly left alone, I stop dancing and simply stand in the middle of the crowd, watching Adrien.
A slow, malicious smile spreads across his face as he begins making his way toward me, weaving effortlessly through the crowd of people. Mine stays perfectly expressionless. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a smile or any other reaction.
The moment he reaches me, I turn around, fully intending to leave this place altogether, but he catches my wrist and pulls me back before I can take more than a single step, effortlessly guiding me into a dance.
His arms settle around my waist, holding me against him as he gently sways us to the rhythm.
For one dangerous second, I fight my own stubbornness, nearly giving in and melting into him simply because he feels so damn good.
But no.
Men are simple creatures, ridiculously entertaining to toy with, and I refuse to cut his suffering short before I absolutely have to.
I push myself away from his chest, ready to escape this mating ritual of his, but the instant I turn, he spins me back, my spine colliding with his chest as his arms tighten around me, pressing me flush against him.
Oh God.
He really isn’t making it easy to stick to the silent treatment I’d so carefully prepared for him.
His silhouette behind me makes me feel as though I could weaken straight into the sand beneath our feet. The night is warm, the air thick with ocean salt and something painfully romantic.
The music sways with us again as I end up locked in his hold, his hands settling firmly on my hips. He leans closer until his breath brushes the shell of my ear.
“Is this another silent treatment?”
I don’t answer.
Instead, I give an irritated shove backward with my ass, trying to force him to loosen his grip, but he doesn’t budge.
“So I guess it is,” he murmurs into my ear.
Next thing I know I’m off my feet while he carries me away from the dance floor. I squirm in obstinate silence, but it gets me nowhere, and a second later he’s already striding toward the sea with me.
That’s enough to make me speak.
“You can’t keep carrying me around whenever you feel like it!” I bark, kicking my legs uselessly.
“It seems like I can.”
Within moments we’re in the water, the rushing waves swallowing his feet as he keeps walking farther into the sea. Behind us, the beach bar lights up the shoreline, its colorful glow mingling with the moonlight shimmering across the dark surface.
Once the water reaches our waists, I make another futile attempt to wriggle out of his grasp.
“Talk to me,” he pleads.
“Or what? You’re going to drown me if I don’t?”
A quiet chuckle rumbles behind me. “Maybe.”
“Let go,” I grit out as he keeps walking farther into the deep water and the cold ocean seeps through my dress in a refreshing way.
“You need to cool down,” he says calmly.
Then, finally, he lets go of me when we’re so deep that my feet won’t reach the bottom.
I tread water and turn toward him, floating in place while he does the same, watching me with unwavering focus. The pale shimmer of moonlight glints in his dark eyes as the waves lap gently against his shoulders.
“Nat, the silence is killing me,” he says quietly, reaching for me beneath the surface.
I slap his hand away and drift farther from him.
“You know physical stuff has never meant anything to me unless it’s with you,” he says earnestly. “You have my heart. It’s yours. It always has been, and it never stopped being yours for a single second through all those years.”
Even though I very much enjoy his endless love confessions, I need to let out the thing that sits heavy in my head.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Bryan?” I blurt out at last.
His expression hardens, but he says nothing.
“About the lies,” I continue. “About being told I was married.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. “That.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I press.
“Because I felt unbelievably stupid, Nat.” His gaze never leaves me. “I failed to protect you. I believed a bunch of simple lies for years, and that’s fucking embarrassing. I was supposed to make sure you were happy, and I failed.”
I listen in silence, the water lazily lapping against my collarbones.
When he reaches for me again, I let him.
His hands settle on my thighs beneath the surface, guiding my legs around his waist, and I nearly break from nothing more than his closeness.
“Let’s move on from all of this,” he says quietly. “I’ll never lie to you again, I’ll never keep anything from you, and, of course, I won’t even look at another woman ever again.”
The moment the word woman leaves his mouth, I decide my little torture session deserves a few extra minutes.
“That’s cute,” I retort. “But I’m leaving.”
“What?” he blurts out, all the color visibly draining from his face.
“Yes,” I continue. “I’m thinking one of those little islands would suit me just fine. Somewhere you can’t follow me.”
His hold on me instinctively tightens as his pupils dart frantically between my eyes. He looks like he’s on the verge of having a stroke.
“I decided today,” I add.
His lips part, his breathing turning so shallow that for a second I genuinely wonder if he’s about to collapse.
“I have a diamond to sell, so it’s not like I couldn’t do it,” I add.
He goes still, adorably lost somewhere between panic and disbelief.
Then the corner of his mouth twitches. At the very same moment, I break into a grin and pull my necklace free from beneath the halter neckline of my dress.
Relief crashes over his face as he laughs too.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “I almost had a heart attack, you little brat.”
He rakes a hand over my neck and quickly rips the necklace off, then catches the engagement ring between his teeth while tugging on the thin chain until it slips free.
Before I can react, he takes hold of my hand, firmly wrapping his fingers around mine. He pulls the ring from his mouth and slides it back onto my finger.
“You had it this whole time,” he murmurs.
The next thing I know, his hands are gripping my ass beneath the water, pulling me against him until there’s no space left between our bodies.
“You’re never taking this off again,” he says, his voice carrying the unmistakable weight of a command. “Over my dead body will I ever see your ring finger without this diamond on it. This diamond is you and your frozen lake, it’s us—frozen together for eternity.”
My legs tighten around his waist as my fingers bury themselves in his hair, tugging hard enough to make sure he understands exactly how serious I am.
“And you,” I taunt. “You’re going to fulfill every fucked-up desire I ever come up with.”
His mouth is already curling into something sinful.
“And you’re never leaving my side again,” I add.
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles before capturing my mouth with his, sealing the promise.