Epilogue

Diego

One Year Later

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Athena jumps a foot in the air, spinning around to face me. "Jesus, Diego! You scared me."

"I noticed. What are you doing, bella?"

"Nothing." One thing my wife is not is a good liar. It's still a mystery to me how the hell she graduated from Quantico when she looks guilty every time a lie passes her lips. She's wearing that look right now.

She's also trying to hide something behind her back.

I stomp into the bathroom, determined to find out what it is.

"Touch me and die, Diego Butera," she says, throwing a hand up to halt me.

I cock a brow, smirking. "You really want to play this game again, goddess?"

"No." She glowers at me. "I mean it this time."

All the more reason for me to remind her that her rules mean nothing to me. I break them because I can. Because we both know how much she loves it when I do. I'd kill for her, no questions asked. She's my heart and soul. Everything I do is for her. But no one tells me that I can't touch what belongs to me. Not even my perfect wife.

I stalk her across the bathroom, smirking. "Lose the shirt, bella."

"Diego, I mean it."

"So do I. Lose the shirt."

She decides to stop retreating and stand her ground. If she thinks that's going to stop me, she's wrong. I pace toward her, dragging my shirt off over my head. It's been a long fucking day. Being in charge is for the fucking birds.

I understand why Rafe and Luca hate it so goddamn much. It's been one problem after another for the last year, and we're running out of bodies to throw at problems. But somehow, peace still holds, and we're all still walking free.

The woman in front of me has a lot to do with that. She gave her boss a bullshit story last year about a Genovese coup before she quit. I don't know how she managed to sell it, but Marcello and Callandria agreed to back the fabricated version of events. As far as the FBI knows, Genovese was taken out by his own people as punishment for his crimes. If they have doubts, they haven't voiced them.

They've had their hands too full with other problems to fuck with us lately. With Athena working as an investigator in my law firm, we tend to know which way the wind blows with them before they make a move. It's working well for us so far. We're treading water, at least.

But I'm fucking tired of chasing problems. It's a never-ending shitshow. I just want to spend my time lost in my wife. That's my goal in life. To spend the majority of every day inside her.

Having her at the office has been a huge help, not gonna lie. She's made it a helluva lot easier to track down motherfuckers like Donato Burciaga when they try to disappear instead of showing up to court. No one escapes for long with her running point. But having her in the office isn't the same as spending my time fucking her over every available surface.

"Lose the shirt, bella. If I have to tell you again, it'll be while I'm ripping it from your gorgeous body."

"Fine," she huffs, fidgeting around behind her back.

Something clatters to the floor. She squeaks and spins to grab it, but I beat her there, scooping her up out of the way before she can get to it.

"Put me down!" she cries, squirming to get free.

I ignore her, of course. Whatever she doesn't want me to see, I most definitely intend to see right now. We don't keep secrets. It almost destroyed us once. I'll never risk that shit again, and I won't let her either. When James Tackett went missing nine months ago, and she asked if I had something to do with it, I didn't lie to her. Fuck yeah, I did. He had that shit coming for disrespecting her. She wasn't happy about it, but we handled it. Together. Whatever we face, we face together. Whatever we decide, we decide together.

I scoop the plastic bar from the floor.

She jumps, trying to grab it from me.

I hold it out of her reach, trying to figure out what it is. It's maybe six inches long with a weird ass stick on the end. It doesn't make any fucking sense why she was hiding it…at least not until I flip it over and see the little window.

"You're taking a pregnancy test?" I growl, dropping my gaze to her.

"No. Um, yes." She shrugs helplessly. "I don't know!"

"Athena, bella." I turn her to face me, trying to think through the clamor in my mind. "You think you're pregnant?"

"I don't know," she whispers, refusing to meet my gaze.

I've been fucking her bare for the last year, trying to get her pregnant. Every time she starts her period, she ends up disappointed. But she keeps putting off going to see a specialist. I think she's afraid of what they might say. She wants kids. If we can't have them, it'll break her heart.

"I'm late." Her voice shakes.

"How late, bella?" I usually keep track, but I've been distracted lately.

"A week."

"Shit." I drag her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No matter what the test says, I love you. No matter what the test says, we will have as many babies as you can stand. Believe that, goddess."

"I'm scared."

"Then we'll do it together."

"You are not watching me pee, Diego Butera."

I chuckle. "Pee on the stick, and we'll wait together. If you don't want to look at the test, I'll look for you."

"You will?" She eyes me hopefully.

"You think I wouldn't?"

"I…no." She shrugs, her gaze darting from mine. "I guess I just didn't want us both to be disappointed when it's negative."

"Nothing about you ever disappoints me, Athena. Nothing," I growl, kissing her hard on the mouth. I haven't been doing my job if she doesn't know that by now. She is the center of my world. It revolves around her and always will.

"Okay," she whispers.

I hold the test out to her. "Go pee, bella."

She takes it from me, stumbling toward the private toilet. I pace outside the door, praying to God it's positive, for my sake as much as hers. I've wanted her round with my kid since day one. God knows, I've been trying my hardest to make it happen. But either God doesn't answer prayers from motherfuckers like me, or he's taking his sweet-ass time giving me what I want.

The toilet flushes, and then Athena steps out with the business end of the test wrapped in a piece of toilet paper.

"Here." She thrusts it at me as if she's afraid it might burn her.

I take it, pulling her into my arms at the same time. She comes willingly, resting her forehead against my chest. We stand in silence, holding one another for a long, quiet moment. Those are rare between us. We live for the push and pull. We fucking thrive on it. I find new ways to love her every single time she gets fired up. But in these quiet moments, I find a thousand new reasons to adore her.

"No matter what, I love you," I remind her.

"I love you too," she whispers back. Even now, hearing her say it stills the restlessness in my soul like nothing else. Every damn time she says it, I find joy, shining like a beacon in the darkness of my life.

I glance down at the stick and smile.

Maybe God is answering prayers from motherfuckers like me today, after all.

"Are you ready to look now, bella?"

"We have to wait three minutes. It hasn't been three minutes."

"It has."

"What? No, it hasn't. Wait longer."

"Athena," I chuckle. "We don't need to wait longer. Time is up."

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "Maybe we should throw it away and wait for a few more days, Diego. It's probably too soon."

"It's not too soon, mama."

"It might be too soon. How would you know? You aren't a…" Her mouth snaps closed with an audible click, her eyes widening. "What did you say?"

"I said it's not too soon, mama."

"Diego." She grabs my arm, trembling. "Is it…? Are you…? Does that mean…?"

"It is. I am. It does," I whisper. "You're carrying my baby, bella."

She bursts into tears, flinging herself at me.

I drop the test, scooping her up into my arms to rain kisses across her perfect face, more at peace than I've ever been, happier than I deserve, and more in love with her than ever.