Epilogue

CLARA

One Year Later, New Years Eve

“ W e’re proud to announce that we’ll be opening a longstanding college scholarship fund for Jackson Children’s Home in the Bronx, with up to two million dollars available for children who lived there to use toward furthering their education,” I announce to the room, smiling out over the attendees of the first Hawthorne New Year’s Banquet.

Brooke sits at one of the lavishly decorated tables near the front, tears glistening in her eyes. Alejandra sits beside her, the first person the scholarship funds will actually be used for when she turns eighteen and graduates high school in two months. Their hands are clasped atop the table, both of them weepy and overwhelmed.

I raise my champagne glass toward them in a congratulatory toast, the diamond bracelet on my wrist glittering under the lights of the banquet hall.

“We’re also excited to unveil the Sanders Grant, a charity named after my beautiful partner, Clara,” Zade says, wrapping his arm around my waist behind the podium we stand at. “It will be a ten million dollar grant put towards refurbishing and updating nursing homes and care centers throughout the city. We look forward to your support as we finalize details of our first several projects.”

The room erupts in polite clapping and cheers again, but I can’t tear my eyes off Zade. It’s been a little over a year since the fiasco of our first Christmas, and my life has changed in so many ways.

My grandmother sits beside Allie at our table, along with Pax, all of them dressed beautifully. She wants for nothing, and neither does anyone else at Brooklyn Gardens.

I have the job of my dreams, working in the graphic design department at Hawthorne Enterprises with Allie. I’m standing on a stage, confident and draped in a black silk dress tailored specifically for me. The most stunning man I’ve ever seen in my life stands beside me, all inky hair and perfectly fitted black suit, the diamonds in his cufflinks matching the ones that shine around my wrist.

The bracelet I wear these days has his name engraved inside of it instead of a four digit door code.

I’ve never been more proud to wear something in my life.

We step off the stage after thanking our investors and employees, heading back to our table. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the feeling of absurdity that comes with all of this—having employees and wearing beautiful clothes and giving away millions of dollars like it’s nothing. Zade has proven to have such a kind and generous heart, coming up with the most thoughtful ideas for company benefits and charity galas we’ve hosted in the past year. He gives me credit for most of his ideas, just to keep face. He still loves his grumpy bad boy facade, but I think he’s finally admitted that it is just a facade, these days, at least to me.

I see the real him every day, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“Clara, sweetheart,” my grandma says weepily, pulling me close in a weak hug once we reach the table. “Oh, I’m so proud of you.”

Her arms are losing their strength, and her knees have all but disintegrated, but she hasn’t lost an ounce of her kindness. I hug her back, careful not to squeeze too hard, before stepping back to let her bundle Zade into her arms.

“Thank you, Grandma,” I say, smiling widely.

“You too, Zaiden,” she says as she lets him go, pinching his cheek with a playful grin. “You’re a good man.”

He blushes as he pulls out my seat for me, getting me settled before answering her.

“Thank you, Nora,” he says warmly. “I’m doing my best.”

“You did good, babes,” she tells me, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand before turning her attention to Zade. “And you finally learned how to throw a proper holiday party.”

She takes great pleasure in giving him shit these days, but it’s all friendly. The two of them like to play at sniping at each other, but they’re so alike they could be siblings. I still remember how I got to watch them both gang up on Landon when Zade’s PI found proof that Landon was the one to leak all the rumors to the press last Christmas. It was kind of beautiful, to be honest.

Pax wasn’t happy, but he wound up telling Landon that family was something you choose as much as you’re born into it, and he finally took Zade’s side and made the decision to fire him. As far as I know, Landon cut loose and left town. None of us have heard much from him since everything came to light.

“Cheers,” Zade says softly, lifting his champagne glass to mine.

The warmth in his eyes is another thing I don’t think I’ll ever get used to, either. A shameless mix of adoration and lust every time he looks at me. I clink our glasses together and take a sip of my champagne, grinning at him over the rim of my glass after I swallow the golden liquor.

Dinner is an extravagant affair, alcohol flowing freely and amazing food in excess—and all of the leftovers will be picked up by a food donation service to ensure it doesn’t go to waste. It took a lot of practice to get comfortable in situations like this, but my confidence has increased tenfold over the past year. Especially with Zade always reminding me that not only am I worth it, but so is my happiness. Zade has had my back through everything, and we’re both learning from each other.

Allie and I have also gotten the chance to grow together, both professionally and personally, and I feel like I’m finally making the changes in the city that I’ve always dreamed of. Still, I don’t miss the sad look in her eyes, nor the way she keeps glancing at the chair next to her, the one Arlo should be in. I don’t know much about the heartbreak she’s been going through lately, never being one to talk about the hard times in her own life. But I do hope she talks to me soon. Most of all, I hope that she finds her own happy ever after, whether that’s with the empty seat beside her or someone else.

We all drink and dance and chat. The night is magical, happy in a way I didn’t think really existed in anything other than the movies.

By the time everyone has finished dinner and people have gathered on the dance floor, I’m quite ready to get out of my heels and spend the rest of the night in Zade’s arms. We sway together to the music, the whole world narrowing down to just the two of us. Zade pulls me close and presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering and adoring.

“What do you say we cut out a little early?” he murmurs into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “We could celebrate, just the two of us.”

I look up at him with an impish grin, liking the sound of that.

“I could get behind a private celebration,” I say.“Go wait in the car, little one,” he says with a smile, rubbing his hand down my arm affectionately. “I’ll be right out, just want to say goodbye to Pax before we leave.”

I laugh, but pat his chest and lean up to kiss his cheek. He’ll probably never grow out of his need to micromanage and be in control of everything, but at least he’s not an ass about it anymore.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” I tease, stepping out of his embrace.

“Never,” he promises, eyes crinkling at the edges with a warm smile.

I head out toward the parking garage as Zade makes his way toward the back of the ballroom. Matty, Zade’s driver, waits for us in the sleek black BMW that Zade favors, and he steps out to open my door for me when he sees me coming. He nods when I thank him and waits until I’m situated before closing the door and heading back to the driver’s seat.

“Zade should be out in a moment,” I tell him, settling into the backseat. “Thanks for braving the New Year’s traffic for us.”

Matty is usually a bit more chatty with me than he is with Zade, but instead of answering me, he passes me an envelope. It’s thick black cardstock, the kind that I haven’t seen since before Zade and I became official.

From Eternity.

I don’t get official invitations these days, showing up on Zade’s arm whenever we please instead. My heart trips over itself in my chest as I rip it open and snag the card from inside. The car is already moving, but I can’t pay attention to anything but the words on the page.

Little one, I have something special planned for tonight. Cain shut Eternity down for us, and I’ve set up a bit of a hunt. Take your shoes off before you get here and be ready to run, because I have every intention of chasing you down.

– Z

My face flushes with excitement, and I’m already wet just with the anticipation of it. I fumble my shoes off and leave them lying on the floor.

It feels like it only takes seconds to reach the club, and Matty pulls the car to a stop outside the unadorned black door that leads to Eternity. The sidewalk is roped off surrounding it, a red carpet rolled out so I don’t have to step on the bare pavement. It’s the first time I’ve walked in without being welcomed by one of the bouncers, and the quiet of the building is eerie.

Most of the lights are off, hardly enough left on to see by, and the shadows seem larger and more imposing than usual. I’ve gotten quite familiar with the layout of the club over the past year, so I can pick my way through the hallway and out to the balcony that leads down to the dance floor with ease. Zade and I have spent many, many nights here, exploring both of our limits and finding new heights of pleasure. He had a playroom built for us at his penthouse too, but Eternity has such an addictive energy to it that we find ourselves here once a week at least.

I make my way out onto the balcony, the metal landing cold beneath my bare feet. The silence is daunting, and I can hear my pulse rushing in my ears.

Zade steps out of the shadows on the balcony opposite me, all predatory grace and a wide, hungry smile. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, tie nowhere to be found, several buttons of his shirt undone to bare just a tease of his well-muscled chest. Both of our faces are free of a mask, and it feels vulnerable in a way I’m not used to. We often ditch the masks once we’re in a private room, but this is the first time we’re standing in this part of the club bare-faced.

Anticipation thrums under my skin, my nipples hardening beneath the silk of my dress and my thighs tensing.

Zade is looking at me like he wants to eat me alive, and I’m a bit lightheaded at the thought of what he’s going to do to me. His grin widens as he trails his gaze over me, eyes even darker than usual in the half-shadow of the club.

“Run, little one.”

I dash down the stairs, bundling my dress up in one hand so I don’t trip over the hem. His laughter echoes as he watches, obviously giving me a head start. I skirt the edge of the usually packed dance floor, sticking to the shadows at the corners of the room. It’s been rearranged a bit, the couches and tables in different positions than usual. He doesn’t want me to have the comfort of familiarity with surroundings this time.

We’ve not played this game before, not like this. We’ve talked about it, Zade telling me all of the ways he wants to chase me down and claim me, mark me as his in the most primal fashion.

The clip of his shoes against the stairs sounds through the club as he makes his way down, his steps measured and certain. My heart pounds in my chest, rabbit-fast and pumping adrenaline through my veins. I hide in the shadows, keeping my footsteps as soft as I can as I edge my way toward the door against the back wall that leads to some of the private rooms.

Zade walks down into the center of the room, tilting his head back and letting the dim lights catch on the sharp line of his jaw. I keep my eyes trained on him, keeping my pace slow and steady.

And then my foot hits a bottle.

The sound of glass rolling against concrete has my heart rate spiking straight through the roof, and my eyes blow wide as instinctual fear spears through me. The hell is a bottle doing there?

Zade’s grin blooms slowly, wolfish and prideful and starving, and he tuts at me disapprovingly before he even looks in my direction. When he does, his eyes find me instantly, seeming to cut through the shadow like he knows exactly where I’ve been this whole time, and my entire body goes hot.

“Should’ve been more careful, pet,” he croons, his voice low and dark and dripping with satisfaction. “I didn’t expect you to fall for such an obvious trap.”

I bolt out of my hiding place before he takes a single step toward me, throwing caution to the wind and dashing straight for the door. He cuts me off before I make it even halfway there, and I pivot on the ball of my foot to rush toward the stairs instead.

I can’t stop myself from laughing in pure excitement, the thrill of the chase so much more intense than I ever expected it to be, and his laugh echoes mine.

I run up the stairs, just barely managing to save myself from tripping, and head straight toward the door that leads to the private rooms up here. I half expect it to be locked, but it swings open easily under my weight, and I slam it closed behind me the second I make it through. Zade chuckles from the other side of the door as I flip the lock, and it sends pleasant tingles down my spine.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain. “You think a door is going to stop me from getting what I want?”

I step back, starting down the hall as quietly as I can and testing the doors to the rooms. One by one, they’re all locked, and I start looking around for somewhere to run.

And then there’s a crash, and the door bursts open.

I stare at Zade in pure shock as he steps through the now open doorway, the door swinging halfheartedly on its hinges, lock completely blown out. I thought he might have a key to it, but I never expected him to kick it down .

I almost fall to my knees right here as lust slams into me just at the thought.

“Nowhere to hide, pretty girl,” he teases, a wolfish grin on his face.

I frantically try the door closest to me—no luck. He stalks down the hall, unhurried and certain of his capture as I bounce between the doors, hoping one will open. The thought of him pinning me to the wall in the hallway isn’t unappealing at all, but I won’t give up the chase so easily.

He closes the distance slowly, the lazy stalk of a predator, and I shout out a triumphant laugh when the last door I try swings open.

My plan is to rush inside and hope he pins me to the bed and ravishes me, but I stumble to a halt the second I lay eyes on the room. It's lit with what has to be a thousand LED candles, the flames flickering hypnotically and casting twisting shadows up the walls. Rose petals blanket the floor, soft and fragrant beneath my feet, a wash of red laid out in a perfect heart on the bed.

I choke on a gasp when Zade presses his entire body against mine from behind, one arm wrapping around my waist possessively while his other hand comes up to rest at my throat.

He doesn't squeeze, just holds me, feels the pounding of my pulse against his fingers.

“Caught you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against the column of my throat. “There's nowhere left to go, little one.”

I shiver against him, helpless in his hold. I'm torn between overwhelming arousal and the desire to spin in his arms and kiss every inch of his face. I never thought I'd get anything like this, never thought someone would be so willing to make every dream of mine come true.

“I'm right where I want to be,” I whisper in response.

He kisses my shoulder, chaste and soft, but there's no mistaking the hard line of his cock against my ass as he leads me forward into the room. I go easily, following his lead and letting him spin me around when we reach the bed and then lower me down to sit on the edge.

He drops to his knees in front of me, hands on my waist as he looks up at me with pure adoration in his eyes.

“This is the first room I ever took you to,” he tells me.

My heart twinges affectionately in my chest.

“I didn't know you remembered.”

“As if I could ever forget,” he scoffs. “I wanted to do this here, where I made you mine the first time. I want to make you mine properly.”

I watch in confusion as he pulls back and reaches into the pocket of his well-pressed black slacks. His eyes don't leave mine for a second, hunger and want swimming in their depths.

“You know I'm yours.”

As if I could be anything but.

“I do,” he says, smiling wide. “But I also know I love you, Clara. I know I own you.” He traces the edge of the diamond bracelet on my wrist, a collar in all but title. His name is stamped inside of it, a reminder of who I belong to, who protects me. I never take it off. “But I want the world to know too. I want everyone who looks at you to know that you're mine . I want the whole world to hear me loud and clear when I say that I will never let you go. I want you to marry me, Clara.”

Shock courses through me like a tidal wave.

He pulls a box out of his pocket and flips the lid up. A silver band set with a bigger diamond than I've ever seen in my entire life sparkles under the warm light of the candles.

My hand shakes violently as I reach out to touch it, not even able to believe it's real.

I can't be dreaming right now.

“Is that a yes?”

Zade’s voice is shaky, an uncertain smile wobbling on his lips. It's then that I realize I've just been sitting here, staring at him, dumbfounded.

It takes several tries to get my mouth to work, but as soon as the words start coming, the whole world rushes back into focus.

“Yes! God, Zade, yes, of course, a million times yes.” I practically launch myself into his arms, sending both of us tumbling down to the floor amidst the rose petals. “Yes, I'll marry you. I love you so much, Zade, I love you.”

He mumbles his own declarations of love against my lips as we kiss frantically, champagne and laughter on our tongues.

“Let me put the ring on,” he says with a bright laugh, sitting up and keeping a tight hold on me until he can situate me comfortably in his lap again. “Give me your hand, princess.”

I hold my hand up for him, heart pounding in my chest.

Rose petals are stuck to my arm and tangled in my hair, candles flickering around us. I'm straddling Zade’s lap, his cock still hard beneath me, and I can hardly think past how much I love him.

We both exhale shakily when he slides the ring on my finger, a seemingly simple act that holds so much weight to it.

The diamond shines like a star in my hand, and I stare at it, shock and utter euphoria burning in my veins. When I finally look at Zade’s face, he's smiling so wide it has to hurt. I cup his cheeks and pull him in for another kiss, too worked up for words.

“I love you,” he whispers, his hands going tight on my waist. “I fucking love you.”

He flips us without hesitation, pinning me on the floor beneath him, his mouth not straying from mine for a second. I don't have a chance to do anything before his hands are shoving at my dress, hiking it further and further up my thighs until he can bunch it around my waist.

“Fuck,” I whimper, arching against his demanding touches, desperate for more.

He pins my wrists above my head with one hand and tears my panties down my hips with the other. I moan when I hear something rip, loving the thought of him feral and uncaring of anything but getting inside of me.

“Keep them there,” he demands, squeezing my wrists tightly in warning before releasing them.

I don't move my hands an inch as he leans back, but I do work to get one leg free of the tattered remains of my thong. He watches with dark, wanting eyes as he tugs his belt free and rips his fly down. I spread my thighs shamelessly, watching his hands fumble as his gaze catches on the gleam of wetness waiting for him.

“You’re testing my patience,” he warns me, but he sounds thrilled by the idea.

His cock slaps up against his stomach when he shoves his slacks and briefs down, and I clench around nothing, desire spiking in my gut.

“Perfect fucking girl.” He crawls back over me, belt in hand, and uses it to lash my wrists together above my head. I giggle breathlessly when he angles my hands specifically so the ring shines perfectly under the candlelight. “I want to see that sparkle while I fuck you, little one.”

I shiver in anticipation, rolling my hips up to grind my cunt against the hard ridge of his cock.

“So fuck me, Sir,” I say.

He grins, sharp and animalistic, and he doesn't waste another second.

He shoves my thighs further apart with his knees and slides two fingers into me, and I groan at the stretch.

“Fuck,” he curses, pumping them a few times before pulling his hand away and lifting it to show me my own wetness on his fingers. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

He sucks his fingers clean, his eyes dark and insistent on mine, then guides his cock into me with that hand, the other curling to a fist in my hair.

I toss my head back on a moan as he slams into me, every last inch of his cock cleaving me open. I don't think I'll ever get used to the stretch of him inside me, thick and hot and pressing up against every single spot that makes my mind go hazy.

My hips rise to match his pace as he fucks into me, brutal and demanding and offering me no reprieve.

I can't catch my breath past the pleasure flooding me, his body moving against mine in a way that makes me tremble with bliss. I can't think past my need to cum, to be good for him, to be his , and I wail out his name as my first orgasm slams into me.

He leans down to sink his teeth into my throat, a vicious claim that I won't be able to hide with anything short of a turtleneck.

I press into the bruising pressure of his teeth, sobbing out my pleasure as my body clenches down around his cock. He doesn't slow for a moment, lodging his teeth in my skin and continuing to fuck me like he can't breathe unless he's inside me.

He drives me to orgasm after orgasm until I'm screaming his name and sobbing my pleasure against the rose petals stuck to my cheek.

“Pretty, perfect, incredible girl,” he snarls, the words muffled as he litters brutal bites over the rest of my throat. “ Mine .”

His cock throbs inside of me with the start of his orgasm just before I cum, my whole world shattering around me as Zade sinks his teeth into my shoulder hard enough to break skin.

Everything goes hazy and soft with orgasmic pleasure, my body falling limp beneath him.

I don't know how much time passes before he pushes himself up to look at me. He doesn't pull out, just traces the lines of my body with lazy, affectionate touches that trail up to the bite marks littering my throat. I lean into the warmth of his hand when he tucks a strand of loose blond hair behind my ear.

Sliding his hand up the length of my arm, he slowly pulls my bound hands down until they rest on my chest. The shift in position makes my shoulders burn, but even that is pleasant.

He bends his head and presses a kiss to the ring on my finger, a trembling, proud sigh falling from his lips.

“My Diamond,” he says, looking up at me through dark lashes.

I smile, flexing my wrists in the confines of his belt so I can see the ring glittering on my finger.

“Yours,” I promise. “All yours.”

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