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“A thousand fucking times yes.”

Then he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face against my stomach like he's thanking God Himself.

And holding the man I love beneath the stormy sky—I finally understand.

Sometimes forever isn't something to fear.

Sometimes forever looks like a big, tattooed blast from the past.

And I can't wait to get started on the rest of our lives together.

Epilogue 1: Less

So, what does a Sigma International Security wedding look like?

I’m glad you asked.

Picture a military parade collided headfirst with a billionaire summit, crashed into a romance novel, and somehow ended up on a private tropical island owned by a Russian billionaire with questionable hobbies and excellent taste in liquor.

That's about right.

Because apparently Adrik Volkov owns an island.

Of course he does.

Nothing these people do is normal.

Not that I'm complaining.

Especially after I learned the reason he volunteered the place.

Turns out his wife is a huge Amanda Perkins fan.

Like fan-fan.

As in, when Rusty walked into the room the first day, Sofia Volkov nearly burst into tears and demanded selfies.

Adrik just stood there with his arms crossed looking resigned.

“Happy wife, happy life,” he'd muttered.

Smart man.

Still weird.

But smart.

The whole thing is completely out of control.

There are flowers everywhere.

Champagne flowing like water.

Half the guests are billionaires.

The other half are heavily armed psychopaths.

Honestly?