Page 25 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Chapter seventee n

Cheyenne

Epilogue

Six Months Later

“ C heyenne,” Valentino shouts from downstairs.

I can’t listen. I’m so close to being done with this new manuscript. I’m so close. The words are flowing right out of me, and if I stop now, I might not ever be able to pull them back. We can’t have that. My readers are dying for this book.

I’m dying for this book, more importantly.

Something about it has just come so naturally.

Maybe it’s all that inspiration I’ve been getting.

Not just the mind-blowing sex, but now when I’m not sure if a murder plot or fight scene makes sense, I’ve got a team of guys happy to tell me how to make it more real.

Whether it’s bones breaking or blood gushing, Ugo and Dino are always eager to share what they know with me.

“Honey, Junelle is here,” Valentino says, leaning against the door to our shared office.

In a short time, I’ve littered this space with so much character art.

If anything, being given free rein has made me commission even more art.

It’s so heartwarming and grounding seeing two of my imaginary idiots fucking when I’m having a bad day.

I keep all the naughty art on my side of the room so Valentino can still have his calls and work without scandalising anyone, but big and proud just behind his chair is a movie poster size print out of His Ballerina’s Secret .

I cried when I first saw it. It never occurred to me before that I could treat my covers that way, with such reverence.

But seeing that on a random evening after a particularly stressful day in the classroom had me ugly crying in an instant.

I suddenly felt like a professional, and not just a hobbyist.

“Baby,” Valentino whispers in my ear. He pulls my wheelie chair away from the desk and turns me to face him. “Your best friend is downstairs to see you. You’re having dinner, remember? ”

“Just—”

“No. You’ve spent all day in here. It’s time to stretch and rest your eyes and eat something that isn’t covered in chocolate.”

“But those were fruit,” I argue, standing with a groan.

“Chocolate-covered raisins are not fruit.”

“Who’s got the science degree here?” I put my hands on my hips.

He snorts and then kisses my forehead before he leads me out of the room. As if passing a magical barrier, when I leave the office, I suddenly race to get down the stairs in Valentino’s house. Well, our house now. My name is also on the deed.

Homeownership might be as big of a surprise as the werewolf thing, honestly. Who would have thought?

“And here we see a gremlin, emerging from her cave to search for nourishment and companionship.” Andrea announces my arrival like I’m some chipmunk in a nature documentary. He and Junelle burst into laughter when I stick my tongue out at both of them. Junelle quickly pulls me into a hug.

They’ve been on their second honeymoon, and despite being back for a couple months, we’ve all been too swamped with work to get together.

It’s amazing that even though we live in the same city, it’s so easy to go ages without seeing our family.

Valentino’s made a whole lasagne for the occasion, the delicious smell wafting through the hallways as we walk to the kitchen.

“Wine?” I ask.

“None for me,” Junelle says.

“Yeah, I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” Andrea pulls out a barstool from the counter. “I don’t want to pick up Ezio with wine sweats. He’s gonna be fucking feral tomorrow as it is.”

“How long has he been away?” I ask, pouring glasses for me and Valentino.

He takes his glass and lightly taps it against mine before he takes a drink. Plates are warming in the oven, and we’re just waiting for the lasagne to rest before we cut into it. He didn’t even bother making anything else. Apparently, it’s just that good.

“Twelve months now?” Andrea guesses.

“It’s a damn miracle we’re still running.

Just proof we need to get someone to help him.

” Valentino sighs. Whoever Ezio is, he’s got my mate in knots about this upcoming team expansion.

I don’t know why he wouldn’t want more help.

It’s wildly insecure that not a single other person in the Benetti Crime Family knows the ciphers and codes to run the finances.

“They don’t have to like each other, they just need to work together. ”

“Have you decided if you’re going to do another year at school?” Junelle asks, changing the subject.

This launches me into a huge, long discussion about the pros and cons of leaving my full-time job. Valentino has listened to me having this same conversation with myself over and over again since the fall semester started. It’s only got more stressful as we near midterms.

I don’t pay for anything now. In true book boyfriend fashion, as the movers carried my boxes into his house, Valentino handed me a debit card and a credit card.

Those are for my everyday purchases. He also set up an account in my name only, that has money paid into it monthly for me to use for emergencies or to keep me living comfortably if anything were to happen.

As if my book money hasn’t been the thing funding my retirement for years, anyway.

But there is something about taking this jump that I am scared to do.

I spent years at college getting my degree, years in the classroom working with nightmare preteens.

It feels like I’m throwing a part of myself away by leaving teaching.

It’s stressful, more so every day, but it’s been my security blanket for years.

“Oh, thinking of next summer,” Junelle says well after our conversation had moved on to book plans and the store-bought brownies I bought yesterday in a fit of sugar deprivation. “I can’t be your assistant next July. ”

“What?” I garble, brownie stuck to the roof of my mouth. I only just paid our deposit for us to go. It wasn’t expensive, but that con is supposed to be our thing. A first for both of us. I take a drink of my wine to clear my mouth.

“Well, I don’t think a newborn is really going to be helpful,” she explains.

I spew my drink across the table. Thankfully, it doesn’t spray anyone, but oh my god.

Oh my god!

Valentino stands so fast his chair falls over as he rushes to get to Andrea. He hugs him tight, and I don’t know what they are saying, but I hear the sniffles. Once I’ve cleaned myself up enough, I launch myself at Junelle too. Every bit of love I have for her, I pour into this hug.

“Congratulations, I’m so excited for you,” I murmur. “You’ll be such a great mom.”

“Well, when they’ll have an auntie like you,” she says.

My breath catches and tears drip down my cheek. I pull back and look at Junelle, her eyes misting with tears. She cracks a smile, then I’m giggling, and soon it’s a screaming fest of excitement because my best friend is having a baby. I’m going to be an auntie.

Valentino wraps both of us in another hug, Andrea closing up our little circle. We stand like that for a long while, our familial embrace making me cry all the more. The love I feel for everyone here is so overpowering. Nothing could tear us apart.

“How far along are you?” I ask Junelle.

“Ten weeks, but I couldn’t wait another two. I needed to tell you. It’s been eating me alive keeping this a secret.”

As we wind down for the night, it’s hard to say goodbye.

I know we will see them again soon, we’ve got a whole homecoming dinner planned for Ezio in a week’s time, but my clinginess and anxiety are begging me to latch on to my best friend.

She will text me when she gets home. We’ll video call when she’s on her lunch break tomorrow.

Our friendship will always be here, growing and changing until we are the coolest old ladies at the villa. I know this, but I still hug her extra tight.

“Text me when you get home safe.”

“And text me when you finish that last spicy scene,” she says, squeezing me tight before she and Andrea walk out the door.

Valentino and I clean up the kitchen, pouring ourselves another glass of wine to kill the bottle.

We’re quiet as we come down from the news, but I feel his excitement and worry through our bond.

I’ve got a lot better at picking apart our emotions, but tonight there is nothing to sort through. We feel the same thing .

I take his hand and guide him into our bathroom.

“We deserve a bath,” I say.

“You read my mind.”

Slowly, we peel off layers of clothes, constantly stopping to touch. Neither of us is very good at separation. We crave physical touch. I need his hands on me, grounding me, reminding me that he’s just as obsessed with me as I am with him.

Valentino climbs into the steaming tub first, holding his hand out for me to sit in front of him. The heat makes my skin tingle and flush. I pass him his glass of red and lean back. His skin is hot, hairs tickling me as his legs squeeze around my body.

We sigh in unison.

I raise my glass slightly. “To family.”

“To romance books.” Valentino grins, and I can’t help but agree.

To making your book boyfriend a reality.