Page 50

S arah

It’s been a year since Big Boyd carried me out of that bunker.

His recovery went well. The bullet he took in the desert turned into another scar, next to all the others on his abdomen. His leg healed, despite the additional damage, and didn’t scar very badly.

I’ve come to love my life in Las Vegas. With Boyd. He’s not on the sidelines anymore. Massimo assigned him a crew that operates on the strip. They manage some legitimate businesses, so there’s rarely any trouble. Boyd makes sure they do their job and do it well.

Massimo is still running the Morandi family, but Dante has had to step up a lot, because Massimo has a wife and a son who need him.

I love my godson, Dario. He’s the spitting image of Massimo, but he’s got Lea’s kind eyes.

One day, he’ll sit at the head of the table.

He’ll be in charge of the Morandi family, when Massimo retires.

But it’ll be a long time before that happens. Right now, I’m in the kitchen, cooking dinner, with my mom hovering nearby to make sure I don’t mess anything up.

“The potatoes are boiling over!” she says, nearly pushing me aside as she turns the temperature down. “You have to watch those.”

“I know, I was watching them,” I groan. “Chill. Why are you in the kitchen anyway? You’re a guest, not the cook.”

“Because there’s a lot I wasn’t able to teach you,” she sighs. “You were never interested in it.”

“Mom, I think I can figure out how to make the same three casseroles without instructions,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Not like you were making much else.”

“I know, but… before everything happened with your father, I used to love cooking,” she says. “You’re too young to remember, but I was planning on opening my own café one day. Even picked out a spot near the lumber mill in Pine Grove.”

“Really?” I ask, turning away from the stove. “You never even mentioned that.”

“Didn’t matter after your father went to prison,” she says. “I had to worry about taking care of my daughter. You were all I had left. Sarah, the potatoes!”

“Shit!” I spin around and move them before they boil over.

My mom has visited us a few times, since I officially went from guest to permanent resident of Boyd’s condo— our condo.

She pretends she doesn’t know what he does for a living.

As far as her friends and co-workers back home know, I’m living with some businessman in Las Vegas. And it’s serious. Very serious.

With my mom’s help, I get the food on the table before Boyd gets home.

It’s my first time making Greek food, and I’m rather nervous, because my mom isn’t our only guest tonight.

Lea and Massimo will be here. Cadence. Boyd’s uncle promised he’d be here and mentioned bringing a date.

Leo and Emilio were invited, but we’re not sure if they’re coming.

If they do, it’s going to be a tight fit at the dinner table. I’m sure we’ll manage.

“Well, if I screwed anything up, I’m sure Uncle Belen will let me know,” I sigh, looking over the spread.

“Let’s bring those chairs in from the spare bedroom,” my mom says, gesturing toward it. “That way we have enough seats if everyone shows up.”

“Alright, good idea,” I say, following her.

She walks in and glances at my podcasting equipment. It’s been mostly untouched since I was kidnapped. I did a couple of episodes, just to see if I felt the same excitement I used to, but it has passed. I’m too excited about my life to get swept away in true crime like I used to.

“Did anything ever come of those missing tourists?” my mom asks, pointing at the pictures on the wall. “I never listened to your podcast much, but I heard the episode you did about them.”

“Wait, I didn’t realize you had listened to any episodes,” I say, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” She smiles, shrugging a shoulder. “It was nice to hear your voice.”

“Aw, Mom,” I whimper, hugging her and holding on tight for a moment before letting go. “Yeah, the tourists were being taken from a bar. I figured it out and… um, well, it was handled.”

“By Boyd?” she asks apprehensively.

Yes. Big Mafia Boyd kicked the doors in at Fletcher’s for the second time. Found the guy who was drugging and kidnapping tourists. It was a serial killer, just like Cadence and I suspected, but he’ll never get credit for his crimes. They’ll never even find his body.

“Boyd’s just a businessman, remember?” I say. “It was handled. You don’t really want to know more than that, do you?”

“No,” she admits, turning and picking up a chair.

That’s what I do now. I’ve got my own little office at Salvalagio, walls covered with pictures, and I’m always adding more.

If there’s an active case in Las Vegas, I’m following it, gathering intel for the Morandi family, and bringing them in when there’s something that needs their attention.

It feels a lot more rewarding than podcasting, and I’ve got a lot more resources at my disposal.

I’m not sure how much interest there would be in my podcast, anyway.

The Mafia Prince Killer is old news. Arthur Dykstra is dead.

His decoy—nobody is really sure what happened to him.

He disappeared from solitary confinement.

We’re pretty sure he was eliminated by Solitude, to cover their tracks.

That’s about all they were able to do, before Cadence leaked everything she didn’t delete from their servers, including the identities of most of their members.

Those that haven’t been hunted down are in hiding now, so they’re no longer a danger to anyone.

“Alright, I think we’re ready,” my mom says.

“Yep,” I confirm, looking around. “Now we just wait for Boyd and all our guests to arrive.”

An hour later, everyone is seated at the dinner table, so tight that I’m worried they’re going to elbow each other before we finish our meal.

Nobody declined the invitation. Rowan even showed up, and while he was invited, he didn’t seem enthused about it.

I scrunch myself into a spot between Boyd and my mom.

“Sarah, this is delicious!” Uncle Belen praises. “When you asked me for some authentic Greek recipes, I almost offered to cook them for you myself. Glad I didn’t. You’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” I say, looking down.

“I’m going to stop declining the dinner invitations,” Leo chuckles. “Didn’t realize I would get to eat this good.”

“I’m going to have to buy a bigger table,” Boyd rumbles.

“Or a house,” Massimo suggests. “You really planning on living in this condo forever?”

“One thing at a time,” Boyd growls, shooting a glare at his boss.

We enjoy our meal, along with some of the wine Massimo’s family named after Lea.

My mom can’t say enough good things about it, so Massimo promises to ship her a few bottles to Pine Grove.

It’s nice to have everyone here. I wasn’t expecting much when I suggested hosting my first dinner party, but it’s going much better than I expected.

Once we finish eating, my mom, Lea, Cadence, and Uncle Belen’s college-girl-of-the-week help with the dishes. I’ve already forgotten her name, but if she’s like the others, she won’t stick around long enough for me to bother.

“Mind if I borrow the love of my life for a moment?” Boyd asks, leaning against the kitchen door. “Actually, if all of you could join us.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, wiping my hands and turning to him.

Boyd takes my hand and leads me back to the living room. Everyone is looking at me, so I feel a twinge of concern. I glance back at my mom, and she’s all smiles. So are Lea and Cadence. When I turn my head toward Boyd, he’s got the biggest smile on his face that I’ve ever seen.

Then he lowers himself to one knee with a grunt and pulls out a small box.

“Sarah, I love you. You’ve made my life mean something again, and I want to spend the rest of it with you,” Boyd says, opening the box and revealing a gorgeous diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”

My heart clenches in my chest. When I dove for Lea’s bouquet, I was just doing it because she was my best friend. I never imagined myself actually getting married. But things are different now. My life is different. And there’s only one man I want to spend it with.

“Yes!” I say excitedly, hugging him. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

Now I know why Boyd insisted on inviting so many people. Why he didn’t want us to host a dinner party, unless my mom could make it. Judging by the look on her face, and everyone else, I’m the last to know about the ring Boyd slips on my finger.

Lea pours more wine, and we get congratulated by everyone. I make it through a few hugs before I start crying when I hug my mom.

“Congratulations, Sarah,” she says, squeezing me tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whimper.

I hug everyone. Even Leo, who seems a little taken aback by it at first.

“I’ve already got the wedding sermon ready,” he chuckles as he lets go of me.

“Nah, you’re not officiating my wedding,” Boyd says, slapping Leo on the back. “You’re the best man.”

“You really want a priest to be your best man?” Leo asks. “Won’t be much of a bachelor party.”

“I don’t need one,” Boyd answers.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make sure my brother doesn’t stiff you on that,” Emilio laughs. “Maybe we can even drag Mo out for the night. With Lea’s permission, of course.”

“I didn’t even get a bachelor party,” Massimo pretends to grouse.

“Hey, I tried,” Rowan protests. “You wouldn’t let me plan one, lad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Massimo says.

After the hugs, congratulations, and a lot more wine, our guests begin to depart. Uncle Belen and his date leave first, followed by Cadence, Emilio, and Leo, before Massimo and Lea say goodbye.

“Mom, you really could stay with us,” I say, giving her a hug. “We’ve got the spare bedroom.”

“No, I think you should enjoy the rest of your evening with your fiancé,” she says, her lips spreading into a grin. “Besides, Massimo put me up in a penthouse suite at Salvalagio. I wonder if I still remember how to count cards…”

“Uh, careful with that,” I warn, unable to suppress a laugh. “Don’t go overboard.”

I walk her to the elevator, say goodbye, and stand there until the doors close.

Then I return to the condo, where Boyd is waiting.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.

I whimper and moan into his mouth, undressing him as we move toward the bedroom.

I don’t care if we leave a trail of clothes. I’ll deal with that tomorrow.

“So, are you thinking a long engagement?” I gasp as his lips dance across my neck.

“Fuck, no,” he growls. “We’ll get married next week at the latest.”

“Uh, not quite so soon,” I laugh, goosebumps spreading across my skin in reaction to his touch. “I need longer than that to plan it.”

“Fine, set a date and I’ll be there,” he says. “Now, enough about the wedding. I just want to hear you scream my name.”

“You always make me do that,” I mewl, dragging my fingers down his back.

“By the way, one more thing I didn’t want to bring up in front of the others,” he murmurs, his hands exploring my body as we move toward the bed. “I finally saw that doctor. You were right. I did need to get a second opinion from someone who does more than dig bullets out of people.”

“Does that mean…” I ask, my eyes getting wide.

“I’ll need to have a minor surgery, but after that, nothing’s going to keep me from putting a baby in your belly,” he promises, pulling me closer.

A tremor of excitement shoots through me. I didn’t know if it would be possible, and was fine with the alternatives, if that’s what it took for us to have children. But maybe it won’t be necessary, if the doctor is right.

“Are you going to have it before the wedding?” I whisper, nibbling his neck. “Or wait a little while? I don’t care either way.”

“We’ll figure it out. No rush,” he smiles. “Right now, I just want to make my fiancée come. Hard.”

“Oh, sweet mercy,” I mutter as he pushes me against the mattress, parts my thighs, and lowers himself between my legs.

I feel the heat from his breath.

Then his tongue.

Our life together is just beginning.

The End