“I know.” I kiss to her temple, gentler now that the storm has passed. My hand drifts to her stomach, a gesture that’s become a habit over the years. “I love you, Rowan. More than I ever thought possible.”
She turns in my arms to face me. “I love you, too, Vincent. All of you. I always have.”
We lie in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow, in the miracle of us—two broken people who somehow fit together perfectly.
When we get our wind back, we fuck again, slower and softer this time. We lose ourselves in each other, happily, gratefully.
Eventually, dawn comes to spoil the party. It breaks through the windows, painting Rowan’s naked body in gold and crimson.
Blood and sunlight. The perfect metaphor for the life we’ve built.
I trace the scar on her abdomen from Arkasha’s birth—a permanent reminder of how close I came to losing everything. My hand drifts higher, feeling her heartbeat beneath my palm. Strong. Unbreakable. Just like her.
“Remember when all we had were filthy lies?” I murmur against her hair. “That you were just my assistant. I was just your boss. We were just fucking. That it all meant nothing.”
She turns in my arms. “And now?”
“Now, we have filthy truths.” My voice breaks slightly, a crack in the foundation I’d never allow anyone else but her to see. “I would do terrible things if it meant keeping you and our children safe. I still want to consume you, even after five years. You make me want to be better.”
Her fingers trace the silver in my beard, nails lightly scraping my skin. “I wouldn’t change a single lie that brought us here.”
Outside, our empire glitters in the morning light—legitimate on paper, baptized in blood beneath. Inside, our children sleep peacefully, innocent and oblivious to the violence in their DNA.
This is our legacy. Not the money. Not the power. But this brutal, beautiful truth between us.
Some monsters deserve love.
Some lies become gospel.
Some promises, even the filthiest ones, are meant to be kept forever.
Ours is one of those.
