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Scotch’s dad was holding steady, eyes watering bit by bit. When his wife linked her hands with his and began to dance, he openly cried and cheered.

While everyone rejoiced, Scotch grabbed me by my wrist and tugged me away from the madness. I let her lead us out into the backyard and under the midday sun. Winter was fading, but the brisk chill remained.

We tumbled into a tight embrace, like we hadn’t touched in years. It had only been a few hours. Even that was too long for my comfort. I’d grown used to having her by my side every waking minute when we’d been hunted.

“Congratulations, Officer Scotch,” I chuckled.

She turned rose pink. “Oh, shut up.” Kissing me sweetly, she slowed down until her whole body was wooden.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, studying her face. There were slight bags under her eyes, left over from the weeks nervously waiting for news from the police academy. But that was over with. She should have been ecstatic. Why wasn’t she?

“The meeting today,” she said. “Are you ... Is your family going to be all right? Did I do enough by getting Darien arrested, or did I make it worse?”

Running a hand down her spine, I took a deep breath. The feel of her chest expanding along with mine brought comfort. “The Valentines have their own agenda. When I looked their leader in the eye, I became sure of it.” Picturing Kurtis and his saccharine smile knotted my neck up. “They were using you like a tool. Just like they tried to use me and Lulabelle years ago. But for now, it sounds like they want peace. Fragile peace on their terms ... but that’ll work. For now, there’ll be no war.”

I didn’t doubt that my father was already digging into the Valentines to figure out their motives. I had every intention of doing the same.

Scotch looked at her mother’s house thoughtfully. “A cop and a Mafia prince ... is it really okay?”

I grazed her mouth with mine, then kissed her and counted every heartbeat. It took one hundred before we broke apart. It’d take millions more before our love would ever end.

“Don’t you dare ask me if what we’re doing is okay,” I said, tipping her chin up. “What we have is something I’ll never let the world pry away from me. If you become a perfect saint of a cop, and I have to corrupt you so we can stay together ... then I’ll do it.”

Scotch’s eyes were the color of simmering hot cocoa. She was hot inside, and steam escaped her in the cool air. “All right,” she said, then, more firmly, “Okay. I’ll never ask again. I love you, Costello.” Her arms snaked around my neck, her voice rumbling where she pressed her lips on my jugular. I felt her grin. “But you couldn’t corrupt me if you tried.”

Swirling her around, I pushed her against the cool wood of the oak tree. My shadow fell over her soft features, darkening the brand-new nose stud I’d bought her recently. It was purple, like the bunny I’d lost in the river.

The tip of my nose brushed hers; she trembled. “You shouldn’t test me,” I whispered thickly. “I’ve always loved a challenge.”

She didn’t need to stand on tiptoe to kiss me. That was something I appreciated about her. “And I’ll always love you.”

With my heart thrumming, I boxed her against the tree with my arms and kissed her until both our mouths were surely bruised. This woman, this amazing, talented, impossibly perfect person, was all mine. No matter if she was a cop or I was a royal prince of the mob, or if our actual lives were systematically opposed ... she was mine. She always would be.

Once upon a time, I would have been a king.

But that was never my fate. So I buried myself in the skin of a man who wasn’t allowed love or light or anything good. I built stone walls and I no longer dreamed, because dreams can be shattered—and I wouldn’t survive such pain.

There was a castle around my soul. I’d built the walls solid.

Then she came along and knocked them all down.

Scotch made me realize I was more than a man with scars. More than a false king.

More than a monster.

With her at my side I’ve become what I thought I could never be:

A hero.Herhero.

And that’s better than any dream.