Epilogue-1Louisa


Four Years Later

Refusing to even blink, Stella stared at Alexei for the entire ride from the Nikolaev compound in New Orleans to the building where his half sister practiced medicine. Her chubby little hand gripped my fingers, cutting off my circulation.

Luna, on the other hand, refused to look away from her papa, always finding comfort when looking at him. I couldn’t blame her really; I found comfort and safety in his eyes too.

My phone buzzed at the same time as Kingston’s, and we shared a glance, knowing exactly who it was. He retrieved the phone and his lips curved into a smile.

“Lara sends her love. Says she’s safe and can’t wait for us to be back.” I smiled. Life with Lara had been a priceless journey. She made our family richer and better.

“It’s too bad her professor wouldn’t agree to a few weeks off,” I muttered. “It would be so nice if she could have come along with us.”

“I should have broken his hands,” Kingston grumbled. “That would have put his class on hold.”

I chuckled. Although tempting in this case, we never hurt innocents, no matter what. It was our hard line, a rule that we never broke.

The bulletproof limo came to a stop, and with it, my thoughts. Alexei reached for the door handle when Stella let out a loud wail, crying bloody murder.

I jolted out of my own trance and glared at Alexei, fighting the urge to slaughter him for making my baby cry.

Sleepless nights were slowly getting to me. Our first visit to the Nikolaevs in New Orleans hadn’t exactly gone as planned with the twins getting their first fever. A visit to the doctor was never on the agenda, but we wanted to make sure they got the best care.

Plus, there was comfort in doing something so mundane. So simple.

Kingston and I were just like any other normal parents in the normal world. Our childhoods were full of nightmares and torment. Our children would have better, and we were doing everything in our power to offer the normalcy we never had as children.

I held Stella in my lap, wiping her tears away, her high-pitched cries getting louder and her little face bloodred.

“You want Mommy to dropkick Uncle Alexei?” Stella’s cry immediately died out and her eyes, dark and beautiful, came to mine. When she smiled, another piece of me melted. “I guess he’s gonna have to die if you’re going to keep smiling like that.”

Alexei let out a sardonic breath, but I ignored it. I couldn’t tear my gaze from my daughter’s chubby cheeks.

Her grin turned bigger and my chest melted, feeling lighter. Since our twins’ birth, the light shone brighter and stronger. They were the best part of our lives. But then there were nights filled with terror of what could happen if we failed to protect them from all the evil roaming this world.

“And Daddy’s going to help Mommy get away with it,” Kingston said, placing his hand on mine.

He caressed my cheek with his knuckles. His eyes of warm chocolate and black diamonds made me want to cuddle up to him with our babies and forget all about the doctor.

Alexei’s raspy voice slashed through the air. “Okay, killers, let’s get your babies to Isabella before you start your murder spree.”

The moment broken, my husband leaned over, planting a hard kiss on my lips, and Stella’s cries resumed. Ironically, I could kill a man without flinching, his screams and cries leaving me feeling flat. But my daughter’s cries left me feeling frazzled and helpless.

“Isabella will make them all better,” Kingston assured. He trusted the Nikolaevs, and that was enough for me. They were part of my husband, and as such, part of me. Part of our family.

We’d made a pact when our twins were born that we’d slay anyone who even looked at our babies wrong. And we weren’t joking. Together we’d right all the wrongs that were done to us as children. As adults.

“You and me always,” he reminded me of our promise.

I nodded, soaking in his strength.

I tucked a crying Stella to my hip, wrapped in her favorite blanket, and Kingston did the same with Luna.

“At least we know her lungs are strong,” I said with a shaky smile.

Kingston threaded his fingers with mine as we slid out of the limo, his towering six-foot-four frame protectively shielding our family. It didn’t matter that there was no threat around. That protective streak was built into him—kicking into overdrive where our babies were concerned—and I loved him even more for it.

The brick building awaited with the elevator door already open, and I was surprised to find another couple there waiting. Sasha and Branka Nikolaev.

The young woman waved at us, smiling cheerily, holding the hand of a little boy who looked to be the spitting image of the Nikolaev family. Those Nikolaev genes had to be fucking strong because I had yet to see a Nikolaev who didn’t have their traits—either that pale blond hair or those blue eyes.

“Hey, Louisa.” Kingston and Sasha nodded to each other in typical male greeting. The elevator door slid closed and began to ascend.

“Hello, Branka,” I greeted, barely hearing my own voice over Stella’s strong cries. “Is your little one sick too?”

She opened her mouth to answer but her son beat her to it. “I’m not little,” he practically shouted. I guess the little bugger wanted to be heard over the screams. “I’m three.”

Alexei ruffled his hair but said nothing while I stifled a smile.

“You sure are big,” I agreed. Truthfully, he was the tallest three-year-old I’d seen, but then most of these Nikolaev men were tall and built like warriors.

His eyes came to Stella in my arms, then to Luna in Kingston’s. “They’re tiny.”

They were. The twins were born prematurely, but they were healthy, and our pediatrician said they’d catch up in size. But this fever worried me.

I pressed Stella harder to my chest, feeling her little heart pitter-patter against me.

“You were small when you were born too,” Sasha told his son. “And look how big you are now.”

“Why is she screaming so much?”

The corners of Kingston’s lips quirked and he kissed Stella’s head before planting a kiss on my forehead. “They’ll be fearless like their mama.”

Suddenly Stella’s cries died out and she smiled, at peace as she looked at her papa with doting eyes.

The elevator door dinged, sliding open, and we all slowly stepped outside. First Branka and me, then the men.

Isabella Nikolaev came out to meet us, wearing a white coat and a wide, warm smile.

“Welcome.” She shot a wink at Branka’s son, then turned to face me. “How about we see the two princesses first? Little Damien’s annual checkup can wait a bit longer.”

“I’m not little,” he protested, stomping his tiny foot. “But you can see the little babies first.” Damien tugged on my pants and I kneeled down. His hand brushed over Stella’s warm cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture. “Her crying hurts my ears.”

A soft laughter rang in the room.

“Thank you, Damien,” I said softly. “I’ll be sure to tell Stella and Luna they are in your debt.”

I looked around the room. Alliances. Loyalty. Trust.

And then there was my husband. The boy I loved. The man I fell in love with. We finally got our fairy tale. It might not be perfect, but it was ours, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

Kingston leaned forward, wrapping his free arm around me and guided us into Isabella’s office. Holding on to him, I watched as Dr. Nikolaev took care of our baby, and I knew our future might be dangerous and dark, but together we’d defeat it all.

My eyes found my husband’s. He was my gravity. My whole world. My fucking everything.

We’d found in each other something worth fighting for. Something worth living for. And something worth dying for.

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