Epilogue
Ilona, four months later
"Hold still. I'm hiding the devil and you keep breathing too hard."
My belly rolls with laughter. "I'm breathing for two. Cut me some slack."
"Your daughter can wait thirty seconds while I finish her horns."
Luna crouches in front of me with a brush between her teeth and another in her hand, her moonlight eyes narrowed in concentration. Gold paint streaks her cheek and her dark curls escaped their clip an hour ago. She doesn't care. She never does when she's working.
She's been painting me for three hours. Roses and vines wind across my shoulders and down my arms in deep crimson and forest green, a callback to the hibiscus and jungle leaves from that first night at Scarlet Thorn.
But this time the design tells a different story.
The vines curve around and over my belly at twenty-eight weeks, turning my large bump into a garden.
Petals unfurl beneath my navel. Leaves curl over my sides.
And hidden among the roses, visible only if you know where to look, a tiny devil grins with ruby-red eyes that match the viper inked on my husband's hand.
"There." Luna sits back on her heels and surveys her work. Paint smudges her fingers from her hours of work. "You're done. Don't touch anything for ten minutes."
I stand with my arms extended and my legs slightly spread while a fan blows on me. "Can I at least look?"
She angles the mirror toward me and the woman staring back steals my breath.
I'm not the terrified virgin who walked into a masquerade all those months ago desperate for one night of freedom. The woman I am today carries a life inside her. Very visible. Very proud.
The curve of my belly is painted with flowers that celebrate rather than conceal.
I no longer hide my hair. It falls loose around my bare shoulders now on full display with no fear of being shamed and shoved behind a door.
My light brown eyes hold a steadiness that the girl who walked into Scarlet Thorn six months ago wouldn't recognize.
I chose to be here. Every step, every scar, every broken road that led from that first night to this one. I walked it with my own two feet and I’m so glad I did.
The white gown waits on a hanger behind me.
It’s simple and elegant. I opted for a buttery silk to fit over my growing belly.
At seven months, fitting is a generous word.
The silk stretches over my bump like it's wrapping a gift, and I've made peace with the fact that elegant and enormous can coexist.
Luna helps me into it, her small hands careful around the drying paint. The silk settles against my skin with a cool whisper that makes me shiver. Through the thin fabric, the faintest suggestion of painted petals shows like a secret garden visible only in certain light.
"You look like a goddess who ate a watermelon." Luna's eyes glisten with tears she's pretending aren't there.
"Best compliment I've ever received."
She presses her forehead against mine, careful not to smudge the leaves on my collarbone. She smells like pigments and lavender and loyalty. "You deserve this," she whispers. "All of it."
The doors to Scarlet Thorn's main hall open and I stop breathing.
Candles. Hundreds of them. Their flames dance in the warm air, casting the cavernous space in flickering amber.
Jungle flowers cascade from towering arrangements that climb toward the vaulted ceiling.
Birds of paradise. Orchids. Jasmine vines that perfume the air so thick I can taste it.
Yellow hibiscus bloom in the bouquet I carry.
The exact shade he handed me the night we met.
The silk whispers against my calves with each step. My bare feet make no sound on the polished floor because Luna convinced me a painted goddess doesn't wear shoes, and for once I didn't argue.
Rafael and Persia stand near the front, baby Sofia reaching for candles she can't touch. Drake and Katriana hold hands with the ease of two people who've forgotten where one ends and the other begins.
I envy their easy love, but I can feel Luca and me growing toward it, day by day.
Massimo dabs his eyes with a handkerchief he'll deny later.
Rowan stands at the far side, those ice-blue eyes soft for once.
Luna walks me down the aisle because she's my maid of honor, my bridesmaid, and the closest thing to family I had before I married into one.
A sprig of yellow hibiscus is tucked behind her ear and her eyes threaten tears any second.
Kon stands at the altar as best man. He’s a mountain in a tailored black suit, his dark eyes carrying a warmth I’ve learned he reserves only for those he considers family.
And then there’s my Luca.
My husband waits at the end of the aisle in a black suit that fits like it was sewn onto his body.
His long dark hair is pulled back with the leather cord, a few waves escaping the way they always do.
He’s trimmed his beard close to the chin again and I can't wait to feel it between my thighs later tonight.
The silver at his temples catches candlelight.
His eyes find mine across the room and the gold flecks ignite. He mouths one word.
Beautiful.
The ceremony is nothing like the courthouse. This time the words carry weight. This time they're real.
His vows come first. His hands wrap around mine, thumbs tracing circles against my knuckles.
"I promise to be your sunshine on the dark days, even when the darkness is something I cause.
" His eyes are bright. Wet. He doesn't care who sees.
"I promise to never hide behind silence when the truth is what you need.
I promise to protect you and our daughter with everything I have.
" His hand moves to my belly, warm against the silk.
"I promise to love your grumpy mornings and your fierce heart and the stubborn courage that scares the hell out of me daily. "
I laugh through tears and he smiles.
"I married you because I couldn't live without you. I'm standing here today because you gave me a second chance." His voice drops low. Just for me. "I will spend the rest of my life honoring it."
And now it’s my turn.
"I promise to trust you, even when it's hard and especially when it's terrifying.
I promise to be your partner in everything.
The empire, the family, the beautiful chaos we're building from every wrong turn that brought us here.
" My voice gets stronger with each word.
"I promise to love the devil and the man equally, because they are both you and I choose both. "
I squeeze his hands and feel the band of trust warm against my fingers.
"You were my biggest mistake. You're also the best thing that ever happened to me. The cruelest part is that both are true." I hold his gaze. "I choose you, Luca Valentina. Today, tomorrow, and every day after."
When the officiant pronounces us married, Luca cups my face in both hands and kisses me like no one else exists around us. The room erupts. Massimo whistles loud enough to earn an elbow from Rowan.
The reception flows in champagne, apple cider for me and laughter. Music fills the club turned wedding reception with a joy that feels so well deserved. Persia finds me near the bar and takes my hand.
"Welcome to the family. For real this time." Persia's eyes soften and she squeezes my hand, her smile carrying the quiet knowing of a woman who fought her own war to stand where she's standing today.
Katriana joins us and wraps me in a hug that smells like jasmine tea. "The Syndicate wives stick together," she murmurs.
These dangerous men and fierce women have become my people. Not through blood or obligation. Through the daily, unglamorous act of choosing each other.
My mother sits near the dance floor with sparkling water in her hands and a tentative smile on a face that is slowly relearning what real expressions feel like.
She catches my eye across the room and raises her glass in a small, trembling toast that no one else notices.
The look we share holds an entire conversation.
Luca's hand finds the small of my back. "Come with me."
I glance up at him and the heat in his dark eyes tells me exactly where we're going. His thumb traces a slow circle against my spine and the corner of his mouth curves into that wicked smile I fell for at the masquerade. The one that promises sin and delivers on every word.
"Luca Valentina, we have a room full of guests."
"They'll survive without us." He leans down and brushes his lips against my ear. "I've been thinking about that glass wall since you walked down the aisle."
The private elevator carries us to the VIP floor. The doors open and the corridor hits me with a rush of memories. My pulse races.
The room is exactly as I remember. Red lights lining the edges.
The massive bed in black silk. The glass wall overlooking the party below.
And the waterfall, cascading into the floor, blue lights making the water glow.
The air carries the faint mineral tang of the falls mixed with orchid perfume that lives permanently in these walls, I swear.
Beneath it, the ghost of a memory so vivid I can almost taste it.
"Remember the first time we were here?" His voice is low and threaded with heat.
"Remember? I live it every time I close my eyes. I was terrified and excited. I didn’t know what I was doing." I lean against the cool glass. "And desperate. And completely in over my head."
Luca comes to stand in front of me, his body melding with mine. "And now?"
I look at him. My husband. The fact I got to pick every detail about this wedding makes our union feel real this time.
"Now I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
His mouth finds mine and this kiss is nothing like the desperate collision at Luna's when we made our promises. This kiss is slow. Sweet. The kiss of two people who have nothing left to prove and nothing left to hide.