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So, I found him myself.

Because if I wanted to prove I deserved a place beside her—if I wanted to be worthy of her love—I needed to destroy the last man on this earth who made her feel powerless.

And I did.

I came home covered in his blood and slept better that night than I had in years.

I would’ve done the same to her sister too. The urge still claws at me some nights when I remember what that woman did—throwing her younger sister into the hands of a predator just to save herself.

No one capable of that deserves to be called family.

She’s in an asylum now, her mind deteriorating more every day, and the knowledge settles with ease inside me because karma always collects its fucking debt eventually.

And once I eliminate every sex trafficker who worked under my father…

I’m done with this life.

I’ll take my wife somewhere far away from all of it.

Somewhere quiet.

Somewhere safe.

Build a fucking castle if she wants one. A pink one at that.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life there with her and a house full of children racing through endless halls with loud laughter and crooked smiles, their hearts so full of love that they never have to question it for even a second.

“You are my fucking world, Elara.” I pull her cheek into my mouth and suck on it with raw need. My hands groping her chest and I remove her top.

“I love you, Sergei.” She smiles and I nod.

“I love you, Elara.”

I picture Elara standing in sunlight with our children wrapped around her legs, smiling without sadness hiding behind it.

And for once, it feels less like a fantasy and more like the only future I’ve ever truly wanted.

EPILOGUE-ONE

Elara

Five years later

“What are you doing?”

His eyes widen almost comically as he slowly lifts both hands in surrender, a guilty smile tugging at his mouth.

“What did I tell you about eating chocolates at night?” I place my hands on my hips, glaring at the two thieves caught red-handed in my kitchen.

“Oh, don’t look at me.” Sergei says immediately, pointing downward. “She’s talking to you.”

My eyes narrow. “Really?”

Sergei casually shifts, attempting to hide Kian behind the kitchen counter.

Tiny fingers carefully place the spoon back onto the counter-top with exaggerated gentleness, as if stealth is still possible at this point.

I bite back a smile. “Kian.”