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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Finn

D espite the twenty-four-hour security I’ve insisted on having here in Switzerland the last few weeks, I can’t escape this nagging sensation in my stomach, louder than a whisper, not quite a roar. That sixth sense has never steered me wrong when I’ve listened to it, and it’s going off like crazy.

The stupid part about this unease is that it’s being overridden on a daily basis by an overwhelming satisfaction. Carys has agreed to give her father one week in Chicago to get the business in order for the transition, and then she’s out—gone for good.

Things have been ticking along in Switzerland for the last few weeks between me, Carys, Lena, and Lucas. We’ve already paid for the renos to the property in Cape Verde, and Jay and his family are flying there this week to oversee the build. We greased some wheels and got approval to construct a hotel and casino on her waterfront property. It’ll be fucking glorious.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s my problem. There isn’t something coming, not really. I’m uncomfortable with things falling into place so easily. My life has never been relaxing. Even as a child, my existence was fraught with danger. Death or jail was an almost certainty.

Now? I have Carys, a kid, and a legitimate business on the way. All my Christmases have come due at once.

“Finn?” Carys’s voice drifts to me from upstairs, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I lower the volume on the TV and check my watch. “I’ll be up with a bottle.”

“Thank you.”

Lena grins at me from the kitchen as I heat the water, pour in the formula, and shake it up.

“What?” I ask as I examine the consistency through the glass bottle.

“Just remembering that conversation we had months ago before you went to Russia.”

“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “Which one?”

“The one where you said you weren’t the happily-ever-after guy.” Her hand sweeps over me from head to toe. “Ta-da. Happily ever after.”

“I’m trying,” I admit as I give the bottle a few more shakes.

“I heard you down here with the baby last night. Seems like you’re doing pretty well.”

I chuckle and shrug. “I’ve always been a light sleeper. Getting up with him isn’t a big deal.”

Lena’s smile is kind as she turns back to the dishes. “Maybe not. But those little things make a relationship stronger.”

Silence fills the room for a beat as I shake the bottle. Relationship advice from her seems apt and odd at the same time. “Carys and I were talking about asking you to come with us to Cape Verde.” I palm the bottle, letting the warmth of the formula seep into my fingers through the glass.

“Is that an invitation?”

“If you’re willing to cut off her dickhead father, we promise you’ll always have a home and a job with us.” Hard to believe she shackled herself to that deadbeat.

She wipes the counter and doesn’t meet my gaze. “Even if Carys had been my child, I can’t imagine loving her more. If cutting off Charles is the only way I get to stay in her life and see Lucas grow up, then consider it done.”

I point and narrow my eyes. “I knew I liked you.”

She laughs. “You’d better get the bottle upstairs. Lucas has a strong internal clock.”

I rotate the glass from one hand to the other and head for the stairs. I take them two at a time and go into the master suite. A bassinet sits in an alcove in our bedroom. Nothing fancy, but we’re not sticking around here forever. This place is temporary, but what’s between the three of us is permanent. Someday this kid will call me Dad. I intend to earn that name, unlike my father.

Carys is rocking him, and when I enter, she looks up. Her blond hair is loose along her shoulders, and while she appears as tired as I feel, she’s still the most gorgeous woman in the world. She takes the bottle and angles it into Lucas’s mouth.

“Lena’s coming to Cape Verde.”

Carys’s whole face brightens. “You asked her?” Her brow furrows. “She didn’t buck at cutting off my dad?”

“Didn’t even hesitate.” I lean against the dresser closest to her. “She loves you like a daughter.”

When Carys glances up at me from watching the baby, her eyes are shining with tears. “Really? She said that?”

“Yeah, she did.”

She turns her face to the ceiling and sniffs. “I’m so stupidly happy right now. I never thought I’d get these baby years—get to see a person change day by day, each day making him more mine.” Her laugh is shaky. “It’s coming together.”

“It is.” The gnawing in my stomach surfaces.

“Have you talked to Hagen? Did he have any idea if it was Demid’s men who killed Eric in Russia?”

I shake my head. “I’m going to let it drop.”

She frowns. “Someday Lucas will probably want to know what happened.”

My gaze doesn’t waver from hers. “Then we’ll tell him the truth. Eric messed with the wrong people and paid the highest consequence. It’s a good lesson not to fuck around with people more powerful than you.”

“We’re going to assume it was Demid?”

“We’re in a good place right now. Do you want to take a chance we’ll ruin it with too many questions?”

With a shake of her head, she says, “No, you’re right. We’re safe and we’re happy. Part of me thought we might never get to be both.”

If my conscience was louder, I might long to tell her the truth. Whether or not I shot the bullets in Eric, he was a dead man out there. Really, I did him a favor by putting him out of his misery. Perhaps the gnawing sense of dread that keeps reoccurring might be my conscience, worried she won’t understand if she finds out. Unlike with my mother’s murder, the only person who can reveal the truth to her is me. I suppose it’ll stay a secret forever.

“You’re caught up in your thoughts,” she says with a smile. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“No,” I say. “Just thinking about how good it’ll be when you’re back from Chicago and we can focus on what comes next.”

She smiles as she tilts the bottle higher for Lucas. “Me too. One week, and then we’re free.”

He drains the bottle, and she puts it beside her to position him to be burped. “I thought I might be worried about leaving Lucas. He changes so much—something new every day. I’ll miss that. I will. But you’re so good with him.” She stares at me, her features softened with love for me. “I can’t believe how good you are with him.”

With my index finger, I rub the top of the wooden dresser and don’t meet her gaze. “With my old life, I wouldn’t have been a good father—too much danger, too much violence, too much hate in me.” I stare at the crisp whiteness of the dresser. “But we’re building something I never knew I wanted, never considered possible.” My voice becomes rough, and I clear my throat. “For the first time, my soul is at peace.”

She adjusts Lucas and comes to me. She circles her free arm around my waist and settles herself under my arm. “Mine too.” With a contented sigh, she rests her cheek against my chest, so close to my heart it’s like they’re one unit. “Mine too.”