Marcos Epilogue

Sometime in the near future…

I watched from my office doorway as Lucas expertly mediated a territory dispute between two of our younger captains, hiding my proud smile behind my coffee cup. At twelve years old, the twins sat quietly in the corner, observing everything with those sharp eyes they'd inherited from both of us. We'd started including them in some of the less violent aspects of our business, just as my father had done with me, though Lucas insisted on a more balanced approach.

"The arrangement stays as is," Lucas declared, his voice carrying that quiet authority he'd developed over the years. "Unless either of you wants to explain to Marco why you're disrupting our carefully maintained peace? Do you want to do that?"

Both captains quickly shook their heads. Nobody wanted to face my temper these days, especially not over something so trivial. They'd learned that while Lucas might be more diplomatic, crossing him often led to dealing with me. We'd perfected this good cop/bad cop routine years ago.

"Daddy handled that well," Alessandro whispered to his brother, probably thinking I couldn't hear. "Better than Papa would have."

Matteo nodded. "Papa would have just growled and they would have run away."

I suppressed a chuckle. They weren't wrong. While I'd mellowed somewhat over the years, my reputation still preceded me. Lucas, on the other hand, had carved out his own unique position within our organization. His intelligence and strategic mind had earned him respect entirely separate from his status as my mate.

As the captains left, Lucas turned to our sons. "What did you learn from that?"

"That sometimes you have to be subtle," Matteo answered immediately. He was always the more analytical one, while Alessandro tended to favor direct action—like me at that age.

"And sometimes," Alessandro added with a grin that was pure Lucas, "you have to remind people that Papa will eat them if they misbehave."

"I do not eat people," I finally spoke up, entering the office fully. "I merely strongly discourage certain behaviors."

"With extreme prejudice," Lucas teased, accepting my quick kiss with a smile. "And occasionally with bullets, too."

"Papa," Matteo's serious voice drew our attention. "When can we start learning about the more... complicated parts of the business?"

I exchanged a look with Lucas. We'd been expecting this question and had discussed it extensively. At twelve, the twins were old enough to understand more about our world, but young enough that we still wanted to protect them from its darker aspects. Our situation wasn't something easy to handle.

"Soon," I promised, sitting behind my desk as Lucas perched on its edge—his favorite spot during family meetings. "But first, you need to understand something very important: everything we do, every decision we make, is about protecting our family and our people."

"Like when Daddy shot that man who tried to hurt us last year?" Alessandro asked innocently.

I blinked in surprise. We hadn't known they were aware of that incident—a failed kidnapping attempt that Lucas had thwarted with his usual efficiency. These days, he was as deadly as any of my trained men, maybe more so because people still underestimated him.

"Yes," Lucas answered calmly, though I saw his hand briefly touch the concealed weapon he always carried now. "Sometimes protecting family means making hard choices."

"Is that why you and Papa are teaching us both business and fighting?" Matteo asked. "So we can make those choices too?"

"Exactly," I nodded, proud that they understood. "Knowledge and strength, together. One without the other is useless in our world."

The twins exchanged that particular look I'd come to recognize—the same one they'd shared as toddlers plotting to steal cookies, as five-year-olds covering for each other's mishaps, and now as budding cartel heirs. Alessandro's slight head tilt, Matteo's barely perceptible eyebrow raise; they were having an entire conversation without uttering a word.

It reminded me of watching them in their shared crib, tiny fingers intertwined even in sleep. Now those same hands were learning to handle weapons and negotiate deals, but that unshakeable bond remained.

Alessandro might be the first to throw a punch in his brother's defense, while Matteo could destroy someone's reputation with a few well-placed words, but they were always in sync—two sides of the same deadly coin we'd created.

"Like you and Daddy," Alessandro said finally. "Papa has the strength, and Daddy has the brains."

Lucas laughed out loud at that. "Oh, piccolo, your Papa is far smarter than he lets on. And I'm not exactly helpless myself."

"Your father," I added, pulling him closer, "is the strongest person I know. He just shows it differently than most people expect."

I watched understanding dawn in their eyes—Matteo's analytical mind already connecting the dots while Alessandro's fingers twitched like he was mentally practicing his aim.

They devoured knowledge the way other kids consumed video games, whether it was Lucas teaching them how to spot a lie or me showing them how to disarm an opponent. Where my childhood had been a brutal education in survival, filled with my father's harsh lessons and the constant threat of failure, our sons were learning the art of power from two very different masters.

They saw how Lucas could dismantle a rival's plans with a few careful words over coffee, and how I could command respect with just a look. They were learning that sometimes the best solution was their daddy's subtle manipulation, and sometimes it was their papa's show of force.

"Can we watch the next territory meeting?" Matteo asked hopefully. "The one with the Russian families?"

"No," Lucas and I said at the same time, then shared a knowing look.

"But-" Alessandro started to protest.

"When you're older," Lucas cut him off gently. "For now, focus on your studies—both academic and practical. There's time enough for everything else."

The boys grumbled but didn't argue. They'd learned early that while I might occasionally be swayed by their pleading, Lucas was immovable once he'd made up his mind about their safety.

"Go find Antonio," I suggested. "He's supposed to be teaching you about surveillance today."

They brightened right away—Antonio was their favorite teacher, probably because he snuck them candy during lessons. As they rushed out, I pulled Lucas fully into my lap, burying my face in his neck.

"They're growing up too fast," I murmured against his skin.

"Says the man who started learning about cartel business at ten," he reminded me, running his fingers through my now mostly silver hair.

"That was different," I argued. "I didn't have a choice. They do."

Lucas shifted to face me, his expression serious. "Do they? Really? This life... it's in their blood now. The best we can do is prepare them for it better than your father prepared you."

He was right, of course. He usually was about these things. "At least they have you to balance out my more... aggressive tendencies."

"Oh please," he scoffed. "I can be just as aggressive when needed. I just prefer to be more strategic about it."

As if to prove his point, my phone buzzed with a message—surveillance photos showing our latest territorial expansion, orchestrated entirely by Lucas while making it look like our rivals' own idea. He'd become a master at manipulation, using his omega status to make people underestimate him right until it was too late.

"Remind me never to play chess with you," I said, admiring his handiwork.

"Too late," he grinned. "I've been playing chess with you for years. You just didn't realize it."

A commotion outside drew our attention. Through the window, we could see the twins practicing hand-to-hand combat with Antonio, their movements already showing the precision we'd drilled into them. Alessandro favored direct attacks, while Matteo preferred to wait for openings—a perfect reflection of their personalities.

"They're going to be formidable," Lucas observed proudly.

"They already are," I corrected him. "Alessandro managed to hack our security system last week."

"I know," he smirked. "Who do you think taught him how?"

I stared at my mate in mock outrage. "You're corrupting our children."

"I'm preparing them," he countered. "Just like you prepare them by teaching them to shoot and fight. Different methods, same goal."

He was right again. Together, we were giving our sons what I never had—a complete education in both the violent and subtle arts of our world. They were learning when to fight and when to negotiate, when to show strength, and when to appear weak.

"I love you," I said without giving him a warning, overwhelmed by how perfect he was for this life, for me, for our family. "Even if you are teaching our children to be devious."

"I love you too," his kiss fell soft as snow. "Even if you are teaching them to solve everything with growling and gunfire."

A crash from outside, followed by twin voices arguing about whose fault it was, broke our moment.

"Your sons," we said at the same time, then laughed.

"I'll handle it," Lucas rose like flowing water. "You have that call with the Chinese families in ten minutes anyway."

I watched him walk away, still amazed after all these years by how completely he'd adapted to our world. The college student who'd once been intimidated by my presence had become a force to be reckoned with, respected and feared in his own right.

Our sons were growing up with the best of both worlds—my power and Lucas's cunning, my experience and his innovation. They would be ready for whatever challenges came their way, protected by both their fathers' love and their fathers' reputations.

The age gap between Lucas and me, once such a concern, had become one of our greatest strengths. My decades of experience combined with his fresh perspective had created something unique in our world—a family that was both traditional and revolutionary, powerful and adaptable.

As I prepared for my call, I could hear Lucas outside, smoothly resolving whatever crisis the twins had caused. His voice carried that perfect blend of authority and affection that made him such an excellent father and leader.

Yes, I thought proudly, our sons would be more than ready for this life. They had the best of both their fathers in them, and God help anyone who tried to stand in their way.

After all, they were Rossis—educated by an omega who'd learned to turn prejudice into power, and an alpha who'd learned that true strength sometimes meant stepping back and letting others shine. They would make their own way in this world, protected by both their parents' love and their parents' power.

And I couldn't wait to see what they would become.

End of Book 6

This series will continue in the next book, and it will go live soon. To be one of the first informed about it, join my mailing list or ARC team . You will also receive a free MPreg story in your inbox!

In the meantime, you can read the previous stories here:

1. Snatched Up by the Cartel

2. Hunted by the Cartel

3. Locked Up by the Cartel

4. Bound by the Cartel

5. Set Up by the Cartel

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