My heart beats like a drum, holding onto the memory even though it’s passed—something my body tends to do around him to make the pleasure last longer.
But I don’t need to hold onto anything or slow down the present moment to stretch out time. I have all of it in the world with Valerian at my side.
“You know I’ll get my revenge on you, right?” I snort, turning my head to look at him.
Valerian lies on his back beside me, his chest muscles contracting as he recovers. A smirk crawls onto his face. “We’ll see.”
“You had me believe you were dead for four days.”
“And now you know how you really feel about me.” He winks. “You’re welcome.”
EPILOGUE
VALERIAN
I wakeup a few hazy hours later holding Joy close to my chest.
The golden light spilling in through the drapes tells me it’s late afternoon.
I kiss her on the forehead and put on some clothes, leaving her to rest. She can’t have had much over the past ten months, carrying and birthing our child into the world, and then finding out I was dead.
Sometimes, emotional roller coasters are needed in order to figure out what you desire most in the world.
Siguard’s reappearance put some things into perspective. So did the six months I spent alone in Russia, walking down the same streets I used to wander down as a boy, questioning the world, figuring out why nobody believed me.
Power forces people to believe when you’re holding a knife at someone’s throat.
Sometimes, it will still be necessary to do that. The tattoos on my skin bond me to the Bratva I created. It will exist inside of me forever as I move into the next phase of my life—being a father.
And what better way to jump into that role by making everyone breakfast?
“Move aside,” I say to Galina. “And take off the apron.”
Galina frowns. “You feel okay, Mr. Valerian?”
After the rooftop incident, Galina heard the truth about why I killed my previous wife, Rachel. But that doesn’t mean she no longer looks at me like I’m holding her at gunpoint.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“I think we all heard that you’re perfectly fine,” sneers Igor, entering the kitchen with Hope in his arms. “I get that you’re in love, but if you could be mindful of the volume the next time you’re fucking my ex…”
It’s still quite a sensitive topic. I suspect it will be that way for a while, considering Igordidactually have feelings for Joy once.
I can see why he picked her out of the crowd initially. She’s petite and very pretty. Looks easy to manipulate on the surface. But then you get to know her and realize she has a complexity that most people in this city lack—including people like us.
“This is still my house,” I say to Igor. “I’ll treat it as such until I sign the property over into your name.”
“Which will be when, exactly?” Igor sits at the table, fussing his niece.
I catch him off guard, seeing him smile as he fiddles with Hope. She wraps her fingers around his.
“She very cute,” says Galina, stepping back as I take over the stove. “I’m glad you forced Joy to marry you.”
“Me too,” I say, whisking eggs in the pan. “She needed a little push in the right direction.”
“Miss Joy big designer now, Mr. Valerian.”
I turn around from the stove. “What?”