Page 117 of Burning Your Lies

He holds my face in his hands and kisses me slow. “There is no life without you. I love you, whether that is as Savannah or Vanessa or whatever the hell your name is. I am in this, sweetheart. Are you?”

Mirroring him, I cup his face before running my hands through his short hair. “I love you too, sunshine.”

He smiles at me. “Good. Now let’s eat dinner, put our daughter to bed so we can have some sex on our balcony, and watch the waves crash until we fall asleep.”

Grabbing an empty plate, I put Elise’s plate together. “I miss your long hair. I miss tugging on it while you fuck me.”

Huxley laughs. “I might be tempted to grow it back, Mrs Knight.”

“Have you heard from Brynn?”

“She bolted before Rowan could get his hands on her.”

I carry our plates to the table. “Do you think she will ever come looking for us?”

Huxley shakes his head as he places our drinking glasses down. “She’s got her money. And anyway, she doesn’t know our new identities.”

“Pen! Dinner time!” I look at Huxley. “What do you mean?”

“When I met with her to trade my life for yours, I made it clear to her to get you out of the country if something were to happen to me. She knew where I stored our new identities. But she didn’t know I had a contingency in case she switched sides.”

I pull Elise onto the seat next to me and watch as she digs into her meal. “You never trusted her?”

He waves me off. “In a game of poker, you can’t trust anyone. It’s why I never told her that Eliana was alive.”

A chill runs down my spine. “I wonder what Rowan did when he stole her back. Do you think she’s still alive?”

Huxley shrugs. “That’s the thing, sweetheart. Love is so much bigger than betrayal. Rowan has spent the last eighteen monthslooking for her because he wanted her back. I don’t think he held out hope only to kill her.” He jabs his fork into food. “She may be his physical prisoner, but ultimately he is her prisoner because he can’t let go. And this is a man that is notorious for putting a bullet in someone with no remorse. But I think she ishisbullet, and she is lodged deep inside his chest, whether or not he cares to admit it.”

My teeth clamp down on my lip as I try to imagine being locked inside Rowan’s empire, surrounded by his men watching my every move in case I try to escape him again. Knowing Rowan, he probably has her chained to him wherever he goes.

“She’s his bullet of love.”

Huxley isn’t listening to me anymore. His gaze lingers on Elise. “Do you think she thinks of him?”

I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Most definitely.”

“Will she forget about him?”

“I hope so.” I press my lips against her temple. “I’m just worried she’s going to tell everyone her name is Ellie.”

“That’s why we named her Penelope. If anybody asks, Ellie is her nickname.”

We fall into a comfortable silence. For the first time in my life, there is no screaming and chaos. There’s a serenity I have craved. My days are filled with mindless walks on the beach watching the waves crash. My afternoons are spent in the comfort of Elise’s laugh and Huxley’s arms. My evenings are spent around the table with my family.

This is not how I wanted the game to end. I hoped that Mia and Jordan would fill the empty seats around the table. I wished to hold on to the first sense of family I got from Huxley’s family. I wanted to bask in Isabella and Malcolm’s joy when we eventually told them they were going to be grandparents. I looked forward to girls’ night with Mia and Hadley. I wanted to visit my mum whenever I missed her so much all I could do was cry. Andperhaps it was foolish of me to wish for the impossible to have Emery’s help in raising our daughter.

I never expected the high cost of victory. And it would be a lie to say I haven’t questioned if it was all worth it. But then I look at Huxley and Elise and know it was. Not just for us, but also for Xavier’s victims. His legacy was burned along with his empire. His company was dissolved, and the proceeds went to the families of his victims. It doesn’t bring them back, but at least he was forced to face death, too.

Huxley’s worried gaze is on me. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing,” I whisper.

With no words, he understands why I look like I am about to cry. He lifts his glass. “To a new beginning and a fresh start. To a normal life free of games and torment. To happiness; till death do us part.”

I clink my glass against his. “No more lies.”

THE END.

---