Page 68 of Unholy Nights

Tristen appears in the doorway, and something in his expression makes me tighten my grip on Emerald. "Good news?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

He nods. "Lucas just checked in. Emmitt made a run for Vancouver." His lips curve into a smirk. "Sadly, he didn't make it. The guy has shit luck. Apparently it was a carjacking gone wrong.” His grin widens as he tucks his hands into his pockets and leans against the counter. “Very tragic. The Canadian authorities say it was a random act of violence."

Emerald stiffens in my arms, but satisfaction curls in my chest like smoke. I meet Tristen's eyes and see my own dark pleasure mirrored there. Lucas's work is always clean, always untraceable. That's why I trusted him with this particular task.

It wasn’t enough for Emmitt to cut ties with Madeline, not for the things he planned to do to my little phoenix.

The look Tristen and I exchange says everything without speaking a word. It’s a mutual understanding between men whodon’t even blink when problems require permanent solutions. His slight nod tells me everything I need to know about how thoroughly the job was done. How completely Emmitt has been erased from our world.

One less monster who dared think he could touch what's mine.

"And Montgomery?"

"Transferred to a private facility in Montana. I hear it’s very exclusive and even more secure." Tristen's smile turns a little feral at the edges. "Seems all that cocaine daddy's money was covering up finally caught up with him. Junior had a public meltdown at the club.” Tristen chuckles like he witnessed the drama firsthand, and then he turns his attention to Emerald. “He started screaming about how you were promised to him and then he tried to attack his father when the old man suggested rehab. Now he's enjoying a very long-term stay in a place where the orderlies are paid extremely well to keep problematic patients sedated."

Emerald shudders and I turn her in my arms, tucking her face against my chest and running my fingers through her hair. She doesn't need to hear the details. Doesn't need to know exactly how I ensure no one will ever threaten what we have.

"Make sure he stays there," I tell Tristen. "Permanently."

"Already done. The staff understands that his treatment requires indefinite care." He glances at Emerald's back, something almost gentle crossing his face. "The grounds are beautiful, though. Peaceful."

I run my hand down Emerald's spine. "Thank you."

And I don’t just mean for cleaning up my mess. I mean for trying to soften what had to be done for Emerald’s sake.

Tristen checks his watch, and I recognize that restless energy that appears whenever he's been away from Waverly too long. If I'm possessive of Emerald, he's ten times worse with hisgirl. "Speaking of unhealthy obsession," he says with a grin that's more wild animal than human, "I need to get home." His expression softens slightly. "You should know she’s desperate to meet Emerald."

Something warm spreads through my chest at that. Emerald needs friends her own age who understand this life—the darkness, the possession, the all-consuming love that most people would call toxic as fuck.

"Tell her we'll be there," I say.

He nods and turns to go. When his footsteps fade, Emerald lifts her head. There are no tears in her eyes like I might’ve expected. She's stronger than anyone gives her credit for. "They deserved it," she says softly. "For what they wanted to do to me."

"Yes." I kiss her forehead. "And now you’ll never have to think about them again."

She's quiet for a moment, her fingers playing with the buttons on my shirt. "I want to paint the living room a stormy gray," she says finally, a tiny smile on her face as she stares into my eyes. "And maybe turn that room with the lake view into a nursery."

My heart clenches at how naturally she fits me. She’s got this innate ability to acknowledge the darkness while still reaching for the light. "Whatever you want, little one. I meant what I said before."

She smiles up at me, and everything else melts away. That smile is every goddamn thing, bright and warm andhappy.Emmitt's body cooling in some Canadian ditch, Montgomery losing his mind in a padded room… None of it matters except this—her in my arms and the future we're building from the ashes of everything that tried to break us.

"Show me the rest of the house?" she asks, and I see the excitement returning to her eyes. The joy of getting to make choices, to create something that's truly ours.

"Of course." I take her hand, leading her toward the stairs. "But as soon as we’re done here, we’re getting you dinner. You need to eat."

She laughs, the sound echoing through our empty house like a preview of things to come. The warmth that’ll make these four walls a home. "Always taking care of me."

"Always will." I pull her closer as we climb. "Until the stars burn out, remember?"

Her fingers tighten around mine. "I remember. I love you."

"I love you more."

I follow her up the stairs, watching how she pauses in each doorway, already seeing possibilities I can't imagine. Her fingertips trail along the walls like she's reading braille, learning the language of our future home.

My phone vibrates, but I silence it without looking. The outside world can wait. Right now, all I care about is how the late afternoon light catches in her hair, how her hand keeps drifting to her stomach where our baby’s safe and healthy, how her eyes light up when she finds the perfect room for the nursery.

"This one," she says, spinning to face me in the doorway. "The view is beautiful."

---