Vengeful Mafia Prince (Vicious Heirs #2)

Epilogue—Elena

"Okay, yeah, I'm going to be in touch again later this week, once I've had a chance to talk to my graphic designer," I tell the client on the other end of the line. "It won't be long till you hear from me, I promise. Okay? Speak soon!"

And with that, I hang up, pushing my phone into my pocket and copping some of the nasty looks from the other students at the library who were just trying to get some actual studying done while I took a work call.

A work call. I could get used to that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that yes, I actually get work calls now. Ever since I set up the little design brand out of my dorm room the semester before, I've been getting more and more clients who are looking to work with me.

My own business.

It's a big risk, of course, but it's one that I know I'm ready to take. And Giovanni has made it clear that he's willing to invest anything it takes to get this thing off the ground. It's a little company of freelancers, coordinated by me, creating logos and other art and designs for local businesses. The freelancers are mostly just other students who were trying to bring in a little extra money to pay their dorm rent, but it's been going well so far.

And I'm so damn proud to be able to say that I truly stand on my own two feet. I never thought I would get here, not as long as I lived. I had always imagined that I would be working for my father's company, trying to make a name for myself in the halls of that office, where I would always be little more than his daughter to so many people who worked there.

But since my father's death last year, everything has changed.

He was found in the forest a few weeks later. Giovanni and I kept a close watch on the news for anything that might indicate someone was on to us, but as it turned out, his death was ruled a suicide from work stress. And from what I heard at the office, his criminal dealings were quickly dissolved. The power changed hands a few times until Kyra came out on top, steering the company into a new direction, something a little more public-facing.

She offered me a job there, but I turned it down. I know I can't have anything to do with my dad and his history, not after everything I've been through. Whenever I think of him, I'm drawn back to those horrible days when I first found out what he was capable of, having to come to terms with the reality of the fact that my dad had caused so much pain and suffering and death over the years and I just stood by, allowing it to happen.

And it's not like I don't get an up-close view of what that man has left behind, either. No, spending more time with Valentina, I can see the tension in her face whenever she so much as thinks about her parents. She usually tries to steer clear of the conversation about them when I'm around, clearly not wanting to veer into that topic when she knows it's still so tense for us. But every now and then, she mentions them briefly, and I can tell how much pain she is still in, knowing they're gone.

Something I've learned to relate to all too well.

The more time that passes, the more sure I am that Giovanni did the right thing in taking out my father on that day. At the time, it seemed like the worst thing that could have happened, and I still have nightmares about the sound of that bullet entering his chest, the thick crunch of bone and muscle at that the velocity.

But then I wake up and reach over, and I'm lying next to Giovanni. I'm in his bed in the townhouse that we now share, and I remember what I would have lost if he hadn't made that choice.

I remember that I would never have had any of these moments with him. I would never have been able to drink coffee with him on a Sunday morning or gang up on him with his sister while we both cheat at cards to make him look bad. I would have lost out on being with the love of my life, and no matter what that has cost, it feels right that I'm here with him.

And as though right on cue, I hear someone calling my name. I look up, and there is Giovanni, waving me over to his car. We've got a date tonight. He insists we spend at least one evening out together every week. To show me off, he tells me. I don't think he's joking. At least by the way he looks at me when I get all dressed up for him, it seems serious.

He gets out of the car as he sees me approaching and pulls me into his arms for a kiss. I laugh and draw myself back from him.

"Hey, we're on campus, you know."

"You're a student, not me," he reminds me, pressing his face into my neck. "I'm not breaking any rules doing this."

"Oh, yeah, well, if you go any further, I'm pretty sure you will be."

"Point taken," he grumbles playfully, pulling back from me and opening the door. I get inside, and he climbs in, his hand on my thigh as we pull away from campus.

"So how was your day?"

"Busy," I sigh. "I just got another call from that bakery client. You know the one? And she wants to rush order this collection of stickers for the end of the week."

"Damn, that's tough. You going to be okay? Think you can keep on top of it?"

"Oh, I know I can."

He grins, and brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of it as he drives. "That's my girl."

He's been my biggest cheerleader in getting this project off the ground. I don't know what I would have done without him. From moment one, he has been insistent that I'm going to pull this off with flying colors, telling me over and over again that I can do this, that I have what it takes, that I just have to put my mind to it and I'll be able to pull this off. Even when there have been days when I doubted myself, he's been there to remind me that I'm good at what I do. I can make it work.

And I always do.

It's something I can still hardly believe. The whole time I was focused on making a name for myself in my father's business, I had been so taken in by the belief that working for him was all I could ever be good at. That was all I would ever be able to do. But there's so much more that I'm capable of, so much more than I could ever have imagined. I'm so much better than what I had grown up believing about myself, and being free from the weight of my father's expectations has allowed me to achieve so much.

Of course, it's not just as simple as not taking a job at his office. Some members of my family have tried to reach out to me, but I've declined their calls and dodged their letters, putting as much space between myself and them as I can. I've even changed my name, matching it to Giovanni's to make myself harder to find. Not quite the same as being married, but it feels like a connection I want to preserve.

"So, where are we going tonight?" I ask as I stretch my arms above my head and shrug off my jacket. It's one of those late spring days where it's too warm to be dressed heavily but it can get too cold at a moment's notice.

"I found this little Italian place I like the look of," he replies. "I was going to drop you off at home and pick you up in a couple of hours."

"Work?"

"Work."

The work that he's been doing this last year or so, finally focusing on his parents' legacy and business, has been full-on. Though he's been trying to take a step back from the criminal side of things, he's been making investments all over the place, doing everything he can to make sure that he keeps the money coming in. He's never so much as said it out loud, but I know he feels responsible for his sister and me. We're both quite capable of taking care of ourselves, but given the position he holds with both of us, he views himself as solely responsible for our well-being.

"What time are you coming back to pick me up?" I ask, shifting the subject slightly. "I have a couple of calls I could make, if you're going to be a while."

"You take all the time you need," he replies. "I want your attention all on me when we go out."

"Oh, yeah? What have you got planned, exactly?"

He flashes me a devilish smile, and I feel a flutter in the base of my belly. "Worth waiting for, I'll tell you that."

We arrive at the house not long afterward. Valentina has long-since moved out into a place of her own, muttering something about the love nest we've made of the place, and it feels so cozy and lovely to me. He once spun me a story about running off somewhere we could start over, picking a place and making it our own, and this is the closest thing I can imagine to that story coming to life.

"Have a drink, I'll be back at 8," he tells me as he leans over to plant a kiss on my lips. I pull him a little closer, not quite ready to let him go yet.

"You sure you don't want to sneak inside for quickie? Go into that work meeting with a clear head?"

He groans. "Tempting as that is," he replies, "I have things to take care of. And don't worry, it'll be all the better for waiting."

"It better be," I tease, and I give his leg a squeeze. He kisses me again, letting his teeth catch on my bottom lip, sending a sharp little shiver down my spine.

"See you soon."

I climb out of the car and make my way toward the house, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Unlike the first time I came here, there's more than just the picture of his parents sitting on that table when you walk through the door. At my insistence, Giovanni added some other family pictures to it along with more current ones of his sister and him. There's even one of the two of us together, arms draped around each other, laughing at something.

I smile as I pick up that picture. These are the memories I want to treasure, the ones I want to greet me when I walk through the door. These are the details of my life that I want to cast in amber so I can come back to them anytime I choose.

Giovanni and me, we've been through hell to be together. Before we even met, my father had his parents killed. From the way he talked about them, it was as though he hardly even remembered who they were. Just more victims in a long line of people he had harmed and cast off, a number I would have been a part of if it weren't for Giovanni's intervention.

But that's behind us now. What lies ahead, I'm not entirely sure. I don't know what shape our lives are going to take from this moment on. I know I have my business, him, and my studies, and that seems to be enough for me for now.

But the whole future is so expansive with possibility that the uncertainty doesn't bother me like it might have before. There's so much of the world for us to explore together, so much for us to take on and try. And as long as I have Giovanni by my side, I know I'll be ready for all of it. There's nothing the world can throw at us that we can't take on and come through together, stronger than ever. We've proved that a hundred times over.

But all I need to prove to him tonight is my ability to eat my weight in pasta.

I put the picture down, smiling as I make my way to our bedroom to pick out a dress for tonight. I want to wear something extra-sexy, maybe even with the black lingerie he picked out for me underneath.

As I go through my closet, my heart flutters with anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. It doesn't matter how long we're apart.

Because I want him. I need him. I need him in ways I never thought I would need anyone, but ways that don't scare me. Rather, they fuel me to do better, to make sure I keep impressing him, that I keep up with the image of me he has in his head.

To make sure he knows I love him as much as he loves me.