Epilogue

Acopy of the Daily Journal sits on the table as I sip my morning coffee. My story about the mayor, corruption, and the trafficking of women from shelters meant to protect them has gone viral.

Media outlets have been trying to contact me all morning but I've refused to take any calls. My editor can deal with it. I've done the hard work and exposed the rot at the heart of our city. All that remains is for the people involved to face justice.

I'm sure a lot of them think they'll get away with it, but they are wrong. Mickey and Sasha have worked tirelessly to trace every last person who signed up for a subscription to Uriov's sick website. Many of them thought they could hide behind anonymous online identities, but Uriov was a man who liked to maintain detailed records of his business dealings.

Every person who paid to watch his vile content was identifiable. And it turns out a lot of them are important, famous, well-respected, and all of the above. This morning, at the same time as my story went live online and in print, everyone linked to the site got their comeuppance, one way or another.

All were arrested, with their identities published on WikiLeaks, along with irrefutable proof of their wrongdoings. It's caused shockwaves across the world since many of those named held prominent positions in politics, and at least one was a minor member of a European Royal Family.

"You need to eat, malyshka." Max pushes a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of me. I take one sniff and my stomach rolls uncomfortably. He quickly removes the plate and frowns. "How about some toast with peanut butter?"

That worked yesterday. I nod and he pops some bread into the toaster for me.

When a new plate is placed in front of me, my stomach behaves and I manage a few bites.

"Good girl," he praises and of course I preen in response. Being told I'm his ‘good girl' does it for me every time. I'm such a praise slut. It's ridiculous.

"I'm so proud of you." He leans down and kisses me on the cheek while pointing to the headline with my name on it.

I came so close to asking my editor to publish the story without my name attached. I was - and still am - worried that the attention I'm receiving for being the journalist to break the story will bring the roof down on Max's head. He's no angel, and if people realize who my boyfriend is, he could end up in serious trouble.

Of course, my anxiety is written all over my face.

"Baby, stop worrying," he chides before placing me on his lap.

"I can't help it," I reply. "What if someone starts digging and figures out your business dealings are connected to the mafia?"

"My business dealings are legitimate, malyshka, there's nothing to find. All anyone will see is that I am the developer of a casino-hotel complex that's due to open next year, creating hundreds of jobs and boosting the local economy. Based on that, I am a pillar of the fucking community."

"And modest too," I observe with a wry smile.

"You worry too much, malyshka. It's not good for you or the baby." His large hand rests on my gently swollen belly and I exhale all my tension.

"I know, you're right." Stress is bad for our baby, which is why I'm taking an extended break from work and focusing on writing a novel instead. I plan to relax and enjoy my unexpected pregnancy here, where it's safe.

Neither of us expected me to get pregnant so quickly. Even though doctors claim a pregnancy can occur almost immediately after a contraceptive implant is removed, I assumed it would take months, possibly even longer.

But nope. Max knocked me up within two weeks.

I'm still in shock about being a mother.

And so is Amanda. Turns out she's expecting a baby too, only she's not sure who the daddy is, which proved to be an interesting conversation.

Jane has gone to stay with her mother in Australia but we all talk every day and she can't wait to be an auntie. She's finding it hard to get over the trauma of being kidnapped, but a surfer dude she's met in Byron Bay is helping. I hope in time she'll come back and pick up the threads of her life here, but if she doesn't, Max has promised me we can visit as often as I want. He has a private jet, apparently.

I guess there are a few perks to hooking up with a rich mafia boss. Who knew?

"When you're finished, malyshka, we have somewhere to be."

"Oh? Where?"

He drops a kiss on my lips and smirks. "It's a surprise."

The car pulls up alongside a small jet and I gape out of the window in surprise. This is not what I was expecting. I figured we were going out for lunch or something, to celebrate my article.

"Err why are we at the airport, Max?"

He doesn't reply. The door opens and Artem helps me out, grinning at me like he's in on the secret. Which he probably is. I've learned over time that Artem is a man of few words, but he knows everything.

"Hurry, malyshka, we have a long flight." Max pulls me up the steps and into the plane, where a steward in a smart uniform waits with drinks. Champagne for Max and sparkling water for me.

He shows me to a plush leather seat and makes sure I'm belted in before taking a seat next to me.

"Are you really not going to tell me where we're going?" I huff loudly but Max is immune to my bad temper. He carries on smirking as the plane takes off, and no matter how much I threaten him, he refuses to tell me where we're going.

Eventually, I give up asking. The plane has a bedroom and it isn't hard to distract me because my hormones are rioting and I want sex all the time. Luckily for me, Max is more than happy to accommodate my needs.

The sun is setting over the horizon when I wake up from a snooze. I look out of the small window adjacent to my seat and see miles of turquoise ocean and white beaches surrounding a green, lush island. We're definitely not in Kansas anymore.

My mouth falls open and I gasp.

"Where are we?"

"Remember the silent auction at the charity gala in honor of the Mayor's pet projects?"

I think back. That was the night I met Max and interviewed the mayor. I shudder a little at the memory of Kolanski perving over my body. Thank fuck he's dead.

"Um yes?"

"One of the lots was a beach vacation in Bermuda."

Ah yes. "I told you I'd be bored on a beach vacation." His eyes light up with amusement and I know he's looking forward to proving me wrong.

"I won that one, so here we are, malyshka. Bermuda, where I guarantee you will not be bored."

We disembark from the plane and a car takes us to a private resort where the only other people there are hand-picked staff and a few of Max's guys. It's gorgeous. Our villa is right on the beach and I can literally step out of the bedroom and hop into the ocean.

"It's so beautiful!" Tears stream down my face. Fucking hormones. I'm an emotional wreck since falling pregnant.

"You deserve all this and more," Max says, holding me in his arms so tightly I can hardly breathe. "And I plan to make you the happiest woman on the planet for as long as I live."

"I love you." It's not enough given everything he's done for me, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart.

Instead of telling me he loves me too, he drops to one knee in the sand and pulls a massive diamond ring from his picket. The damn thing is so large NASA can probably see it from space.

"Natalya Rossi, you mean everything to me, so please make me the happiest man in the world by becoming my wife. Will you marry me?"

I can hardly speak I'm crying so hard, and for a moment, Max looks a bit panicky, but finally, I manage to reply,

"Yes!"

He jumps back up and kisses me hard before asking whether I like the ring.

I admire the way the diamond catches the light. It's so pretty. Jane and Amanda will literally lose their shit over this. I know Jane will want to be at the wedding, so it's a great reason to force her to come back and be my wedding planner.

"It's lovely, why?"

"Oh thank fuck," he mutters, "Sasha said the ring was too much and I should have gone for something less ostentatious."

"Umm it is rather showy, I might need an armed guard following me around when I wear it."

He growls. "Baby, you won't be going anywhere without a security detail or me with you, and preferably both."

When I first met Max, being told I couldn't go anywhere on my own would have freaked me out, but after everything that's happened, it's reassuring not suffocating. I like the idea of having protection. It makes me feel safe. And now I'm pregnant, that's even more important.

"Good."

He relaxes at my calm acceptance of how things are going to be, which tells me he was expecting a fight about it.

"Thank you for keeping me safe," I tell him.

"Always," he replies before he carries me back inside and proceeds to show me exactly how much he loves my new curves.

The end.