Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Christ, I love you,” I tell her, rolling over and panting, sweaty and riding the high.
“Christ, I love you, too,” she teases. “I have for a very long time, you know,” she says, rolling over and laying her head on my chest.
“How long?” I ask.
“Long enough that it wasn’t proper,” she admits.
“Honey, this still isn’t proper. You know that, right?”
She grins. “I do. And I kinda love it.”
That makes me laugh, then sigh.
“Nothing really changes, you know,” I tell her.
“Oh? How so?”
“I’m still going to be in charge as leader. I’m not turning away from the brotherhood now, not when we’ve forged so much together and I’m teaching Nicolai.”
“Of course not,” she says. “But actually, daddy…” She reaches for my hand and weaves her pretty fingers through my bigger, rougher ones. “Everything’s changed.” She smiles. “But for the better.”
I think about it. She’s right. I’m still the leader and we still have our friends and enemies. Now I don’t face this alone. I face this with the most beautiful, loyal woman by my side.
The brotherhood will not die, and never will. But I’ve paid the king’s ransom. And she was worth every damn penny.
Epilogue
One year later
“Stefan.”
Taara is standing in our living room, her hand on the piano. My entire home is different now because of her, and I love it. She’s added her domestic touch to everything. She’s gifted in that way, and this room is no exception. A gleaming black baby grand is the focal point of this room, complete with cream-colored walls and a comfortable sectional, her framed photographs both breathaking and eye-catching. My men love to drop in and visit with us, and Taara welcomes them all with open arms.
I never knew I needed her until I had her. Now that I do, my life feels complete in a way I never anticipated, as if she’s the final piece to a puzzle.
But today, something’s wrong. She’s trembling, her back to me, holding a piece of paper in one hand and something I can’t quite see in the other. I walk to her, my heartbeat accelerating.
Did she get into the grad school she applied for?
“What is it, baby?”
She turns to me and literally collapses on my chest, breaking into sobs.
“Taara, baby, what?”
First, she hands me the piece of paper, sobbing away on my chest, but I can’t tell if these are sad or happy tears. I quickly scan the paper, my own eyes misting over when I read what’s written.
Our application for adoption’s been accepted. I knew it would be. I have friends in high places, and one phone call was all it took. Our lawyer assured me we’d be approved, but Taara didn’t know that.
Two weeks after our quiet marriage ceremony on the front lawn of the compound, she came to me. She wanted to adopt a child, specifically one of the Afghani refugees. And how could I tell my wife no? I think it had something to do with her holding Nicolai and Marissa’s new baby. She got this gleam in her eye…
I’m not a twenty-something year old anymore, but hell. I’m an experienced father. And I’ll give our child the safest, most normal life he or she could imagine.
So I hold her to me and rock her in my arms. “Baby,” I tell her. “This is amazing.”
“But look,” she sniffs, holding up her second hand. I look down, and when it finally dawns on me what I’m seeing, I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry myself.
It’s a white pregnancy test with two pink lines.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
That makes her smile, and now she’s laughing and crying at once, so I just hold her, because one of us losing their shit’s good enough.
“So… we need to talk timing,” I tell her.
“And school...”
“And a nanny…”
“No.” She shakes her head and looks up at me. “I’m the one who will mother them.”
Mother them. She’s so cute.
“Yeah, baby,” I tell her. “You will.”
“I hope one of them is a girl,” she whispers. “We’ll name her Hesther.”
I pull her to my chest and embrace her, suddenly overcome with inexplicable emotion.
“Yes,” I tell her. “We will.” I hold her to me, and give thanks for all that’s happened. I made mistakes. Hell, we all have. But as the seasons of life come and go, an ever-changing landscape, new life comes in the spring. And with it, a new beginning.