It was true that we would always have the shadow of a connection to the underground through Ford’s parents, but it was worth it in the end.
Because we were finally free.
This was a whole new beginning for us, and I could hardly wait.
Epilogue
Emzee
Ibarely got a glimpse of the room before Tori threw herself into my arms and gave me a huge hug. All I saw were balloons. Tons and tons of balloons. In all my favorite colors: deep purples and burgundies, rich teal, sleek black and silver. I was sure Brooklyn had picked them out. She’d never been one to go for classic pink and blue.
“I am so excited to meet your baaaaaaaabbbbbyyyyyyyy!” Tori squealed, wrapping her arms around me and forcing me to jump up and down with her.
I didn’t mind. After all, her happiness was infectious, and it was clear that she and Brooklyn had put a ton of work and love into planning this shower. Once I extracted myself from Tori’s grip, I got a chance to look around and see what my sister-in-laws had done.
“This place looks amazing,” I exclaimed.
The room was full of balloons, but it was also decorated with streamers and ribbons and almost every surface was covered in beautifully wrapped gifts. I was surrounded by love and excitement.
I couldn’t have asked for a better baby shower.
Well—baby sprinkle, supposedly. At least, that’s what my sisters-in-law had promised, but I’d known the moment I asked for something small that they wouldn’t be able to resist going all out, and I’d caught the look that passed between them when I said I didn’t need a full-blown extravaganza.
Still, by the third baby you’d think they might have a little more chill…though I was secretly glad they had ignored my wishes. It was a nice reminder of how much they cared.
“I told you they’d never let you get away with a small shower,” Ford whispered in my ear as he came up behind me.
He wrapped his arms around my growing belly and I leaned back into him with a contented sigh. I would have thought that after two kids, and with a third on the way, that the sparks between us might have dulled a little. But Ford always insisted that I was never sexier than when I was pregnant. Which is probably why we were having a third. He could barely keep his hands off me when we weren’t expecting, but when I was, it made him almost ravenous.
From the look in his eyes now, I could tell that he was debating dragging me off to the guest bedroom to push me up against a wall and have his wicked way with me. If we weren’t surrounded by family and friends—all of whom had worked so hard to make this shower possible—I might have let him.
Instead, I just tilted my head back for a kiss and then watched all the oldest kiddos (Nina, Dani, and Teo) playing tag down the long hallway outside the apartment. Our middle child Rosie was sitting in a playpen with Tori and Stefan’s youngest, Milan, the two of them laughing hysterically at some game of swapping toys that only they seemed to understand, despite the fact that neither of them could speak in complete sentences yet.
It had been five years since Ford and I had made our last stand against his parents, taking a risk on our future and our happiness. A risk that had since paid off, with dividends. Life was truly grand.
True to their word, the Malones had paid off the Bratva, and we hadn’t heard from the Russians since. There were always signs that they were still doing some smaller deals with Ford’s parents, but I knew they’d never come near us again and it was a peace of mind that I cherished.
True to Ford’s promise, although the senior Malones doted on their grandchildren’s photos and loaded up their trust funds with regular deposits, they didn’t seem terribly interested inseeingthem much, outside of major holidays or the kids’ birthdays.
“I’m just not very good with young children,” my mother-in-law had said once, and I hadn’t pushed her.
It was perfect, actually. Just the right amount of contact from the Malones.
At one point, they’d indicated to Ford that they were talking to A Guy about divesting from their business. According to my father-in-law, it was, “Just to make things a bit easier for you and the heirs when the time comes.”
It seemed to be a tacit admission that Ford’s parents were working to sever their Connections, but I didn’t try to dig into it any further. Their lives, for the most part, were very separate from ours—and I liked it that way. It allowed all the Zorics/Malones to enjoy every moment of raising this next generation of children without worrying that the shadows of any of their grandparents would ever shade them.
Ford and I opened all the gifts and then, leaving the kids to play with the piles of wrapping paper, we gathered in the kitchen where Brooklyn was cutting the cake. I sat down and put my feet up. Even after two kids, and now with this third one on the way, I’d never gotten used to how swollen my ankles got. Ford immediately moved behind my chair to rub my shoulders, and I let out a happy sigh.
“Thank you all, for everything,” I said.
“It was our pleasure,” Brooklyn insisted, passing me the first slice of cake.
“We love you,” Tori added.
“I love you too,” I said. “All of you.”
Once the party had dissipated, with just our family remaining, all of us gathered around the table, eating leftover bits of cake and rocking babies or petting dogs. We’d all done pretty well for ourselves and after the chaos that had come at the start of each of our marriages, we were all now settled into married life. All of us happily.
