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EPILOGUE

Emma

ALPHOMA MODELING AGENCY wasn’t located in the stylish part of Manhattan. But even here, traffic on a Friday afternoon was insane. Nevertheless, the limo was waiting for me in the parking garage—just as it always was on days I worked at the office.

It was one of the many perks of being in a pack founded by a former billionaire.

Gabriel wasn’t as obsessive as he used to be about his net worth, and he’d been pouring money into the pack’s pet projects since we mated in Portugal three-and-a-bit years ago. My startup modeling agency catering to alpha and omega talent had certainly taken its share of those funds.

I’d spent several months feeling awful about that fact. It had taken a fair amount of therapy—which I’d clearly needed anyway—to get my head around the fact that A) just because Gabriel was now worth $921 million instead of $1.2 billion, it didn’t mean we were headed for the welfare line, and B) the agency was quickly building a name for itself, so it would probably be making a substantial profit within the next twelve to eighteen months.

When I wasn’t having a bad mental health day, I was proud of what I’d done. I had no desire to return to the runway beyondthe occasional charity event. For one thing, I liked food too much now that I’d started allowing myself to enjoy it.

But when I was helping new talent navigate a cutthroat industry without losing themselves to it, I felt like I was in my element.

“Hello, Rashid,” I greeted the limo driver. “How was your day?”

“Good, ma’am,” Rashid replied, holding the door for me. “And yourself?”

I smiled a secret smile. “Not bad, now that you ask. Not bad at all.”

It was approximately a forty-five-minute drive to Pelham Manor, although the traffic tonight made it a bit more than that. Even with a chauffeur, I wouldn’t have wanted to make the commute five days a week—but thanks to the wonders of remote work, I didn’t have to.

I watched the scenery go by, the crush of New York gradually giving way to more trees and grass. The house we’d found in an area north of the city wasn’t for the financially faint of heart, but it was perfect for an almost-billionaire with multiple pack members working in Manhattan.

I’d fallen in love with Gabriel’s property in Portugal. So had Elijah. Butthiswas home. I felt the stress of the day melt off me as the car turned into our long, gravel-covered drive.

By necessity, both the house and the surrounding acreage were large. Packs took up space, and packs with two omegas took up more than most. Rashid pulled up to the front door of the sprawling Craftsman-style house and hurried out to get the car door for me.

“Have a wonderful evening, ma’am,” he said.

“You, too,” I told him. “Will you be able to spend some time with your family this weekend, I hope?”

“Oh, yes,” Rashid said. “John’s parents are coming in to visit, and we thought we’d take everyone to the fall festival in the village.”

I wished him and his family a good time and hurried into the house, my heart soaring as I heard the sound of childish voices laughing and shrieking inside.

My first litter of three had just celebrated their second birthday last week. They were currently in the ground floor living room, trying to climb Elijah like a tree while Deborah, the beta nanny we’d hired, looked on indulgently.

“Oh, good,” Deborah said, spying me in the entryway. “You’re home. I was worried I might be next in line to play jungle gym.”

“Mama!” cried Jason, the only boy of the bunch. An instant later, I was the focal point of a very short stampede, accepting hugs from my little brood.

“It’s so good to be home, my loves,” I told them, crouching down to give and receive kisses. “Say goodnight to Deborah, so she can go and get some rest.”

A chorus of “G’nite! G’nite!” filled the room.

Deborah laughed. “Good night, you little menaces. Emma, Elijah—call me if anything comes up this weekend. Oh, and don’t forget you have a video call scheduled with Mrs. Allen in the morning.”

I thanked her and went to flop down on the couch, dragging half my bodyweight in toddlers along with me. Elijah sat down next to me, and Jason immediately crawled from my lap to his. Rosa burrowed into the space he’d left, and Annabelle squashed herself into the small gap between us.

“How’s Nana Allen doing, anyway?” Elijah asked. “It’s been a few weeks since I spoke to her.”