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“I know so.”
I arch my back, and a rumble shudders from his lungs and vibrates up the hands I have planted on his chest. “Once she’s better and I graduate, then we can leave.”
“And we marry. First and foremost, we marry.”
My hands glide up to the top button of his shirt. I release it and spread it open, baring his bronzed skin to my eyes. I catch a brilliant flash from my ring, but this time, I don’t wince or jerk in reaction. If he loves me so much that he’s willing to relinquish everything for my happiness, then I can compromise.
I bring his hands to cup my breasts. He lets out a low groan. “Precious…”
“Don’t hold back, Lucian, because nothing is going to hold me back.”
His eyes turn wild. He inhales deeply, holds it for a moment, blows out a long breath, and says my two favorite words. “Good girl.”
I have something to keep me here—Lucian, my soon-to-be husband. I have my friends. I have my studies. And if I still want to leave, I know he’ll make it happen. This man is so capable, and if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s Lucian’s ability to makeanything happen.
He’s made me love him, and there were moments when I was so hurt I patched over my broken heart with hatred, but it wasn’t my real heart. My real heart was always his. And now that the patches have been set on fire, there’s nothing—nothing—that can ever smother it again.
It’s free. That love is free. Just like me. Because of him.
EPILOGUE
LUCIAN
Inever wavered in my determination to leave everything behind for Star. I made her that promise and I was ready to do anything to stick by it. Never one to be caught unawares, I reached out to Tatum and explained our situation. He was overjoyed to have us join him in the Hagi clan in Los Angeles.
But then Star learned about Crina’s marriage.
And then Gabby got hitched.
Just as important, Star’s mother got better. After several stints in rehab, she’s returned from the dead.
She lives with us now.
And we live in the West Village, which doesn’t seem as far from Queens as one would think. Most days, I either walk down to Cristo’s loft in Tribeca or I commute to Sunnyside. We found a brownstone on a private cobblestoned street called the Washington Mews just north of Washington Park.
The road still looks like the row of stables it originally was and we occupy a small two-story building that was renovated into an artist’s studio. Most other buildings on the street are used by New York University as offices, which was our primary reason for moving there. Just as I’d suspected, Star got accepted into NYU. Her classes are a couple of blocks away and I have bodyguards with her wherever she goes.
The war is still raging, but my woman is safe.
It’s what I make sure of every day.
Winning this war, eliminating any threats, and overrunning the Bratva are my other, secondary goals.
I give thanks every night when I come home late and find Star asleep in our bed, her bright hair spread out around her like a halo. The soft sounds of her breathing put everything to rights. Whatever’s happened that day, whatever death I have on my hands from the night’s work disappears. It’s like being cleansed. Like being reborn. Every day.
I straighten from my hunched position over the laptop just as Star enters the foyer. Her image popped up on my screen from the surveillance camera by the front door. I hear her call goodbye to one of my men who’ve trailed her from class to class. I hear her lock the door and then she’s in my presence. My breath catches as it does every single day when she walks into our home.
She tosses her purple backpack onto the sofa in the living room, the diamond engagement ring on her finger flashes sparks around the room. There’s a matching yellow diamond wedding band snuggly tucked beneath it. What I lacked in my non-proposal to her, I hope I made up for in the wedding of the century.
Star saunters over to me and I push my chair away from the desk and lift my arm for her to settle on my lap and cuddle into my side. She’s soft and feminine and everything that I didn’t know I needed in my life until I almost lost it all. I take in a deep breath and thank my lucky stars that I had the wherewithal to throw everything away for her. Just because I haven’t had to yet doesn’t mean I won’t.
I drop a kiss on her crown.
And then, because I can’t help myself, I drop another one on her brow and another on her nose and then another one when Star wraps her fingers around my nape and pulls me into a long, lingering kiss. Our tongues duel until it leaves us both panting for more.
Groaning, she plucks at the buttons of my dress shirt. “I missed you.”
Fuck, how I love hearing those words. Words I’ll never take for granted.
