Page 121 of Tempting God

“Nothing illegal. Just something that will need to be taken care of. Please…”

His voice cracks. Holy fuck. He really is scared.

I take it, putting it in my pocket.

“Thank you, Carter. Truly.” He clears his throat. “Now, let’s go. I’m sure my cousin is looking for you.”

We make our way to the living room, where I go to Greer’s side.

“Everything okay?”

I answer in a low tone, “We don’t know where Jones is, and Charles got a letter from the killer.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, no.”

“And you were afraid life would be boring once we got to the White House.”

She smacks my chest. “I would never say that. Want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because, my dear husband, life with you has never been dull.”

“I take that as a compliment, Little Fae.” I lean in, brushing my lips against hers. “And I’m not a bit sorry about it.”

She smiles. “Me either.”

The first time I met this wonderful woman, I saw someone who reminded me of myself. A poor child who had been beaten at the hand of someone who was supposed to protect her. The second time I saw her, I had to hold her hand while she lost two of the most important people in her life. The third time I knew I was a goner because this woman had the power to bring me to my knees. Somehow, fate kept bringing us together, and I knew that this woman would change my life. And I’m so fucking thankful for it.

I say, “I love you, wife.”

“I love you, too.”

Fuck. Four words I will never tire of hearing.

EPILOGUE

Dimitri

***One week later***

I walk into my house, closing the door behind me. The children are asleep, so it’s silent. Too silent. Dropping my keys in the bowl by the table, I touch Serafina’s photo before going to the kitchen. The cook left a meal in the fridge for me, so I pull it out, reheating it.

Sitting at the table, I try not to let my mind wander. Most nights I’m too tired to think of her, but tonight is not one of those nights.

“My sweet love,” I whisper to the room. “How I miss you.”

It’s been eight months since I lost her, and the pain hasn’t lessened. I doubt it ever will.

My phone rings, pulling me from my melancholy.

I expect it to be the hospital, since I’m on call. I don’t expect to see Blanc’s name flashing across the screen.

Dread swirls deep in my gut.

“This is Santos.”

“Good evening, Santos. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

---