Epilogue

One year later…

Sixteen years. Sixteen years and I'd finally gotten justice for my mother.

She could finally rest in peace. Giovanni was dead. Abel had been sentenced to life in prison for her murder. The Tyrell empire was no more.

I stood at the foot of my mother's grave, a bunch of fresh peonies in my hands. I couldn't believe it had been two years since I stood here on her birthday. I'd met Roman that day and it changed everything. It had been gray, if I recalled correctly. Today the sun was out.

"Do you remember I told you about The Innocence Project?" I said. The Innocence Project had been a scheme that Roman and I had dreamed up during our yearlong exile in France. It would be a cause that reviewed and investigated old criminal cases to find the real truth. It would give hope to sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, husbands and wives of victims of unsolved cases.

"Well," I told my mother, pride growing in my chest, "we did it. The Innocence Project has officially started. We got ourselves a brand new office, hired our first staff member and we got our first client. Roman was just with him."

I let out a long breath when I thought over the last few years. I couldn't believe we were here. "Can you imagine…a man everyone assumed was a criminal is now the one putting them away? I'm so proud of him. He is the man I always knew he was. And we finally found a way to turn that blood money into something good."

After Roman announced he was alive, it came out that Giovanni had left a considerable amount of money for him. When I say "considerable", I really mean he could have bought a small damn country with the money his father left him. While he'd been alive, Giovanni had managed to separate this sum of money away from the Tyrell empire just in case his empire ever fell. For months Roman refused to touch it. It sat in an account in his name until I had the brainwave to use it to fund The Innocence Project. The money allowed us to charge only what our clients could afford.

Roman would work the legal side. I would work the investigative side. Together we were a team. I had quit the police department and needed a job. I couldn't work for the police force anymore. I needed to get out from my father's footsteps and make my own path. The Innocence Project was perfect.

Anyway…happy birthday, Mom." I stepped forward and placed her favorite flowers on her resting place.

Roman stepped out from between two gravestones like he had over two years ago, causing me to suck in a breath. He still knocked the wind out of me. He looked just like he did that first time, suave and powerful in his Armani suit, his dark hair swept back off his chiseled features. Perfect lips pulled in a smile just for me.

He didn't hesitate this time. He strode up to me and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me, his tongue finding mine, holding me like I was the most precious jewel in the world. My body rushed with heat like it did every time he touched me, and I curled my fingers into his shirt.

He pulled away, rubbing his nose against mine. He whispered in that gravel and caramel voice of his, "Hello, Mrs. Tyrell."

A thrill went through me. Mrs. Tyrell. I loved hearing him say those words. And I was proud to call myself that. I chuckled, wondering how long it would take for me to get used to that name.

We had walked into Waverley Cathedral together hand in hand a few months ago and were married by Father Laurence in front of my father, Nora and Nonna. All the people who mattered.

"Am I late?" he asked.

I grinned. "No, you're just in time." Like he always was.

He slid his hand onto my round belly and bent down so he could mumble against my bulge. When the doctor told us that I must have gotten pregnant on our honeymoon, in Paris of course, just after I stopped taking the pill, Roman practically beat his chest like a caveman. "And hello to you too, little Mercutio Espinoza Tyrell. I missed you and your beautiful mommy today."

I rolled my eyes. "What if she's a girl?"

"My beautiful Abigail Maria Tyrell, I hope you have Mommy's looks." He winked at me.

My grin widened.

"Have you been talking to your mother about me?" He straightened and pulled me back into his arms.

I rolled my eyes. "Not everything I say is about you."

"Of course not. Sometimes it's about what you think of me."

I poked his firm chest. He pretended to bite my finger.

"Sorry I'm late, Julu," a voice called out. My father appeared on one of the paths through the gravestones. "I had to stop for some pesky freeloaders." He rolled his eyes but he was grinning.

"Really, Monty." Nora appeared behind him, arm in arm with Nonna. Nora had taken to calling my father Monty. Only she could get away with that. "Anyone would think you don't like us. When it was you who insisted on coming to pick us both up."

Lately, I suspected that Nora and my father were getting really close. I caught their stolen looks when they thought I wasn't looking. I think they hadn't told me because they were afraid of my disapproval, but I was thrilled for them. I was going to let them sweat it out a little longer before I put them out of their misery and told them that I knew and that it made me happier than anything.

I grinned as my family, our family, walked toward us to celebrate my mother's birthday with my husband, our growing baby and me.

My father gave me a hug, shook Roman's hand and placed a small white cake box next to my peonies on Mama's grave. "Pancakes," he said as he winked at me.

I smiled even through a pang of sadness. Mama got her birthday pancakes after all.

"I hope you two weren't making out in a cemetery," Nora said, giving me a wicked look.

"No!" Roman said in horror. He flushed. I laughed.

I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. My mother would have loved Nora if they had ever met.

Nora wiggled her finger at Roman and whispered, "Freaky deaky," before giving us both a wink.

"Good Lord, girl, you're about to pop!" Nonna said as she enveloped me in a warm hug that smelled like apple pie. We were all going to Nonna's place after this for dinner. I bet I knew what was for dessert. Roman's favorite. "Roman, you're not making this poor girl work all day, are you?"

"Er, she wants to work."

"Roman," Nonna said, sounding horrified. "You should be waiting on her hand and foot at home at this stage."

"Of course, Nonna," he said, sounding chastised. "But she's never been very good at being told what to do." He shot me a cheeky look over Nonna's shoulder. I hid my blush. He's always been very good at telling me what to do.

"Who are we missing?" Nora asked.

"Sorry, I'm here," Father Laurence called as he jogged up the path towards us, his robe swishing around his ankles. There were more hugs all round as he joined us. He kissed my cheek and beamed at my belly. "Have you been taking those herbs I gave you?" he asked.

I almost laughed at the shocked look on both Roman and my father's faces.

I nodded at the Father. "The morning sickness is all gone."

"Well," my father said, his chest deflating with relief. "We're all here. Shall we begin?"

The six of us stood in a close huddle and sang "Happy Birthday" to the woman who birthed me, who loved me, and who, in a way, was the reason we were all standing here today. Even as the air was tinged with sadness for the ones who could not be here with us in person, I had never felt so happy.

It turns out that I was right all those years ago. Paris would never last. Paris was just a dream, a lovely dream. But this life, our real life, was so, so much better.

The End