Page 166 of Sinful Sacrifice

He blinks away his own tears.

With this being our second wedding, I didn’t expect it to be so damn emotional. I should’ve known better and had us say our vows where there wasn’t a crowd of sixty people.

But honestly, at this moment, it’s only the two of us.

And soon, three.

EPILOGUE

Seven Months Later

They say good things in life can change bad men.

I was raised in a world of violence and destruction.

My career was the same.

I believed I’d never have a real relationship and my life would always be wrapped around my job.

Then, I met Pippa.

With our baby girl on the way soon, I vowed to be a better man.

But sometimes, it’s pretty fucking hard.

And sorry, baby girl, but sometimes, Dad has to kill idiots.

I pistol-whip the man tied up in the chair before me. Blood drops from his lip and onto the floor. His eye is swollen, and he already has a gunshot wound—compliments of my Glock—on his shoulder.

“You shattered the window of my wife’s dance studio and stole from her,” I grind out.

He cries out in pain when I slam the handle of the gun to the top of his head. “I’m sorry, man! I didn’t know it was your wife’s!”

This asshole threw a brick through The Ballet Studio’s window, ran inside, and stole what he could. He didn’t get much since the alarm spooked him, and no one was inside. Still though, you don’t get away with hurting my wife, and that hurt my goddamn wife.

“I’m sorry,” Jack—yeah, I think his name is Jack—continues to ramble like I give a shit.

He could tell me he’s sorry a hundred times and tattoo that on his skin, and I wouldn’t give two shits. I’ve been good since Pippa doesn’t exactly like when I come home bloody and bruised, but technically, Jack will be the only one bloody.

“I just thought it was some random place,” Jack wails, and I hit him upside the head again because his voice grates on my nerves.

Just as I’m about to ram the gun into his skull again, my phone rings. I roll my eyes at Jack’s cries while fishing my phone from my pocket.

Pippa.

“Hey, babe,” I answer. “I’m kind?—”

“The baby is coming!” she screams. “Get your ass home!”

“On my way.” I end the call, shoot Jack in the head, and tell Julian to clean up the mess because his niece is about to be born.

“And this is your nursery that Mama decorated for you,” I coo while cradling my daughter in my arms, showing her the nursery for her first time.

Pippa was in labor for ten hours. I lost count of the number of times she said she was kicking my ass for knocking her up. I laughed it off, which only pissed her off more. I held her hand, assuring her everything would be okay, as she gave birth to our beautiful baby girl, Alessia Lake Bellini.

Now, three days later, we’re home.

Lanie is covering all of Pippa’s classes at the studio. For the next four weeks, we’ll be adjusting to life with a newborn.

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