Chapter 24 - Cohen

"You can make it whatever you want it to be."

I watch Emerald's face as she takes in the empty rooms of the house I bought us, her hand resting on her stomach. It’s been sitting empty for almost two years, waiting for this moment.

The space is nothing like the mansion she grew up in. It’s warmer somehow even though it’s empty, with huge windows that let in natural light and exposed wooden beams that give it character without the ostentatious display of wealth her mother insisted on.

"It's amazing," she whispers, moving to one of the windows that overlooks Crescent Lake. From here, you can see the water through the trees, the snow-covered mountains beyond. "But isn't it far from your office?"

"It's closer to where it matters." I wrap my arms around her from behind, spreading my palm over where my baby’s growing. "The Savage Six all live close. You'll never be alone here."

She leans back against my chest and lets out a happy sigh. I breathe in the sweet scent of her skin. Every day since the fire has been about rebuilding—not just our lives, but her sense of security. Her trust in having choices.

"I can really do whatever I want with it?"

"Anything you want." I press a kiss to her neck. "Paint the walls neon pink. Turn the dining room into an art studio. Build a fortress of pillows in the living room. It's yours to create."

She turns in my arms, her bottomless green eyes glassy. "We’ll do it together.”

"If that’s what you want." I capture her lips with mine, still amazed that I get to have this. Her. Our child. A future I never thought I deserved.

A knock echoes through the empty house, and Emerald tenses before relaxing when she recognizes Tristen’s voice as he calls out from the front door. After everything, sudden noises startle her sometimes. But she’ll heal. She’s already doing better and it’s only been a few days.

"In here," I call back, keeping one arm around her waist. She’s still too thin. She's barely eaten today, too excited about seeing the house, and I make a mental note to feed her soon.

Tristen appears in the doorway, and something in his expression makes me tighten my grip on Emerald. "Good news?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

He nods. "Lucas just checked in. Emmitt made a run for Vancouver." His lips curve into a smirk. "Sadly, he didn't make it. The guy has shit luck. Apparently it was a carjacking gone wrong.” His grin widens as he tucks his hands into his pockets and leans against the counter. “Very tragic. The Canadian authorities say it was a random act of violence."

Emerald stiffens in my arms, but satisfaction curls in my chest like smoke. I meet Tristen's eyes and see my own dark pleasure mirrored there. Lucas's work is always clean, always untraceable. That's why I trusted him with this particular task.

It wasn’t enough for Emmitt to cut ties with Madeline, not for the things he planned to do to my little phoenix.

The look Tristen and I exchange says everything without speaking a word. It’s a mutual understanding between men who don’t even blink when problems require permanent solutions. His slight nod tells me everything I need to know about how thoroughly the job was done. How completely Emmitt has been erased from our world.

One less monster who dared think he could touch what's mine.

"And Montgomery?"

"Transferred to a private facility in Montana. I hear it’s very exclusive and even more secure." Tristen's smile turns a little feral at the edges. "Seems all that cocaine daddy's money was covering up finally caught up with him. Junior had a public meltdown at the club.” Tristen chuckles like he witnessed the drama firsthand, and then he turns his attention to Emerald. “He started screaming about how you were promised to him and then he tried to attack his father when the old man suggested rehab. Now he's enjoying a very long-term stay in a place where the orderlies are paid extremely well to keep problematic patients sedated."

Emerald shudders and I turn her in my arms, tucking her face against my chest and running my fingers through her hair. She doesn't need to hear the details. Doesn't need to know exactly how I ensure no one will ever threaten what we have.

"Make sure he stays there," I tell Tristen. "Permanently."

"Already done. The staff understands that his treatment requires indefinite care." He glances at Emerald's back, something almost gentle crossing his face. "The grounds are beautiful, though. Peaceful."

I run my hand down Emerald's spine. "Thank you."

And I don’t just mean for cleaning up my mess. I mean for trying to soften what had to be done for Emerald’s sake.

Tristen checks his watch, and I recognize that restless energy that appears whenever he's been away from Waverly too long. If I'm possessive of Emerald, he's ten times worse with his girl. "Speaking of unhealthy obsession," he says with a grin that's more wild animal than human, "I need to get home." His expression softens slightly. "You should know she’s desperate to meet Emerald."

Something warm spreads through my chest at that. Emerald needs friends her own age who understand this life—the darkness, the possession, the all-consuming love that most people would call toxic as fuck.

"Tell her we'll be there," I say.

He nods and turns to go. When his footsteps fade, Emerald lifts her head. There are no tears in her eyes like I might’ve expected. She's stronger than anyone gives her credit for. "They deserved it," she says softly. "For what they wanted to do to me."

"Yes." I kiss her forehead. "And now you’ll never have to think about them again."

She's quiet for a moment, her fingers playing with the buttons on my shirt. "I want to paint the living room a stormy gray," she says finally, a tiny smile on her face as she stares into my eyes. "And maybe turn that room with the lake view into a nursery."

My heart clenches at how naturally she fits me. She’s got this innate ability to acknowledge the darkness while still reaching for the light. "Whatever you want, little one. I meant what I said before."

She smiles up at me, and everything else melts away. That smile is every goddamn thing, bright and warm and happy. Emmitt's body cooling in some Canadian ditch, Montgomery losing his mind in a padded room… None of it matters except this—her in my arms and the future we're building from the ashes of everything that tried to break us.

"Show me the rest of the house?" she asks, and I see the excitement returning to her eyes. The joy of getting to make choices, to create something that's truly ours.

"Of course." I take her hand, leading her toward the stairs. "But as soon as we’re done here, we’re getting you dinner. You need to eat."

She laughs, the sound echoing through our empty house like a preview of things to come. The warmth that’ll make these four walls a home. "Always taking care of me."

"Always will." I pull her closer as we climb. "Until the stars burn out, remember?"

Her fingers tighten around mine. "I remember. I love you."

"I love you more."

I follow her up the stairs, watching how she pauses in each doorway, already seeing possibilities I can't imagine. Her fingertips trail along the walls like she's reading braille, learning the language of our future home.

My phone vibrates, but I silence it without looking. The outside world can wait. Right now, all I care about is how the late afternoon light catches in her hair, how her hand keeps drifting to her stomach where our baby’s safe and healthy, how her eyes light up when she finds the perfect room for the nursery.

"This one," she says, spinning to face me in the doorway. "The view is beautiful."

I step into the space, seeing it through her eyes—the way the sun paints the hardwood floors gold, how the lake shimmers beyond the windows. But mostly I see her, glowing with life and possibility, finally free to be who she was meant to be.

Someone I’ll get to watch her discover.

She moves to the window, pressing her palm against the glass. "I can breathe here," she whispers.

And that's everything, isn't it? Not the revenge or the violence or even the victory. Just her, finally able to fill her lungs without fear. Finally able to exist without needing permission.

Without being afraid.

I wrap my arms around her from behind, and together we watch the sun sink toward the mountains, painting our empty house in shades of promise.

Tomorrow we'll fill these rooms with furniture and color and life. But for now, this is enough—her head against my shoulder, her dreams taking shape in the gathering dark, and the quiet certainty that everything led us exactly where we were meant to be.