Her head drops against my chest as I still inside her and unleash my cum.
Our chests rise and fall together as we catch our breath.
She reluctantly slides off me and collapses beside me. Grabbing a hair tie from the nightstand, I gather her hair into a loose bun atop her head, letting her cool down.
“Thank you, Nico.”
I grin as I hold her close, kissing her neck. “We’re a team, Serenity. Don’t ever forget that.”
She smiles. “I’m always ready to kill for mine.”
My smile doesn’t waver, but a spark of worry zings through my body because I see the level of crazy she’s ready to be to protect our family. I have to be here at all times to keep her safe. In the back of my mind, I know that’s not realistic.
For a brief second, I consider sending her and Madden back to Florence until the baby’s born.
No. No. I’ll protect them. Always.
I savor this quiet moment. My pregnant wife is safe and calm in my arms.
Epilogue
SERENITY
SIX MONTHS LATER
My hand circles my round belly for the fifth time this morning. I recently learned just how often Nico visited me in Florence. He said he always talked to Madden in my womb. He does the same with this baby. Only difference is I’m not sedated when he does. That man knows no bounds.
I’m happy we’re living under one roof as a family. Twice a week after school, I take Madden to the coffee shop or the Burger Canary.
It’s our special time together. We sit and talk about his day. Can’t believe he's graduating from kindergarten in a few months. He turns six years old on August twentieth. He’s growing up so fast already. Madden loves hanging out with the Esposito children. They had a blast. Just started FaceTiming each other. Like I said, growing up too fast.
Madden bites into the chocolate brownie. His nose and mouth are covered in chocolate frosting.
“Is it good?”
He shakes his head, munching away.
I laugh as I grab several napkins and wipe his face and hands clean.
“Save the rest of the brownie for later. I rather you eat the cake pop.”
He pokes his lip out. “But Mommy, it’s too good.”
I close the brownie container and place it in the bag I have set aside with treats I’ve been craving.
Best Brew ranks as my top coffee spot in town. I sweep my eyes across the café. Guests sit, engaged in conversation. Only three tables remain unoccupied. Customers occasionally look up at the bodyguards stationed at the front and back doors.
“Can I take anything away for you?” A familiar voice asks.
I look up at the man clad in a white short-sleeved shirt, tan khakis, a black Best Brew apron, and a matching black cap.
A thick black beard frames his jaw, and dark hair peeks out from under the cap
“Madden, put your headphones on?”
“Tablet time,” he replies, slipping on his headphones.
“You died years ago,” I say, stunned.
