Epilogue

EPILOGUE

KELLAN

One Year Later

T he heat of the day is starting to wane, giving the air a pleasant warmth that's nowhere near as overwhelming as it was around midday earlier. We've been on the island for a week, celebrating our honeymoon, and it's been nothing short of perfect. The heat and sun mean Kacie has taken to wearing exclusively bikinis or sundresses which I fucking love. My wife looked incredible in everything she wore, but damn those dresses were like my fucking drug.

The pad of feet on the tiled floor catches my attention, and I turn from where I'm standing on the balcony to find my wife walking towards me. She's wearing strappy sandals and a long, flowy blue dress with a V-neckline that highlights her chest.

She's goddamn gorgeous.

"Come on, Blondie," I say, holding out my hand for her. She smiles, twines her fingers with mine, and lets me lead her down the stairs to the beach. "We don't want to keep the chef waiting."

"Kellan," Kacie breathes as our feet sink into the sand and we round the corner to where a table and two chairs are set out on the beach. "This is so romantic, oh my God."

I grin, pulling out her seat and helping her settle as the first course comes out. The chef greets us both warmly, introducing the food and telling us all about the local ingredients and special preparation. Kacie's eyes go wide as the chef lifts the lids off our plates to reveal the first dish—bright seasonal veg and chicken with some fancy sauce that smells incredible.

The chef excuses himself to finish up the next course, and Kacie wastes no time diving in. Watching her eat is one of my favorite things, the way her eyes close as she moans around her bite, the way her throat bobs with her swallow, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips.

I'm hungry, but the food isn't the kind of meal I need.

Forcing myself to look away from her so that she can actually enjoy the food—otherwise, I may well lay her out on the table instead—I uncork the champagne and pour a glass.

While we're away, Easton and Darragh are holding down the city for me. Since our deal with Rossi, things have calmed down a hell of a lot. Well, as calm as they can ever get in the Mafia. Which is good since Kacie threatened to use her scalpel against me if I kept getting injured.

Thankfully, I haven't been shot or stabbed or hurt since the time she had to bandage my arm—the night she told me she'd marry me. Now, she has my family's ring, emerald and gold, glittering on her finger. She had to stitch up a bunch of my men, though, and not a day goes by when she's bored. Honestly, we've never been healthier or better looked after. Kacie is as close to heaven as a man as bad as me will ever get.

I go to hand the glass of champagne to my wife, but she shakes her head. I frown, worried. She doesn't look ill, but what if I've missed something?

"Are you okay?" I ask, setting the glass down. This is her favorite champagne, and she's never turned it down before. "Are you sick?"

Kacie's lips twitch in a smile, confusing me even more as she laughs. "No, Kellan, I'm not sick."

"Then why?" I ask, pausing when she grins widely.

"I'm not sick. I'm pregnant."

Shock and joy slam into me. In a second, I'm out of my seat and grabbing her from hers. I pick her up, spinning her around in the sand.

"You're serious?" I ask, setting her down to splay my hand over her lower stomach, marveling at the idea of her growing my baby.

She laughs, her smaller hand covering mine gently. "I'm serious."

"I love you so much," I tell her, holding her so tightly to me that she squirms.

Her arms wrap around my neck as she clings to me, the baby in her belly cozy between us."I love you, too."