Page 65 of Vengeance

I instinctively lean back into Dele’s warmth. I could say more, but Dele’s statement says it all. That’s what it boils down to. That’s what it’salwaysboiled down to. Keeping Dele. Phae was smart enough to realize that, even though our marriage would have inevitably fallen apart. Pray could have learned that from her if he hadn’t been so keen on getting rid of her. Pray could have figured it out himself, if he had stopped looking at her as a distraction for his enforcer.

Finally, Pray’s expression twists into something wicked and demonic. As though he’s being possessed. It might be terrifying if he were actually dangerous anymore.

“I should have killed you the moment I learned he’d killed all those men over you,” Pray snarls.

I have the satisfaction of Pray’s last words being words of regret before I get tired of him talking and stick a syringe in his neck. He seizes and begins to struggle for breath in seconds. He dies in less than a minute. Dele goes to the door and takes Pray’s dinner from the guard who is actually one of her Fangs and sets it on the table. She then takes the plastic spork from it, snaps off the end, and hands it to me. I then proceed to shove the piece of plastic down Pray’s unmoving throat. With the task done, I lay him down on the side, and put everything back into place while the janitor, one of my own men undercover, vacuums the room to make sure no DNA from Dele and I is left behind.

Dele and I walk back out hand in hand. Under the metal detector. Past the rest of the check-in area. Back outside. Then we get into our waiting car to take us back to our jet, where I look forward to continuing right where I left off with her. With her naked body writhing under me, taking everything I plan to give her and then some in our own personal celebration for what’s just occurred. Never mind the chaos it’s going to cause for some people in a few hours.

There’s officially nothing left to be done.

Stephen Pray and everything to do with him is over.

The reign of my wife, Adelena “Dele” Fantoni, and I, Adrian Fantoni, her loyal enforcer and executioner, Viper, has begun.

Epilogue

Dele

Iglance up at the clock on the wall in my office. I technically have another minute to work, but another minute isn’t going to make a difference in my work for the day. Especially when there’s always work for me to do. Legal documents and contracts to sign. Meetings to have. Networking to do. Connections to make. People to bribe. People to threaten. People to give the order to kill.

Being a business woman and a mafia queen is a 24/7 job. But that doesn’t mean I have to do it all hours of everyday. I could work all night and there would still be something to do. So I’ve taught myself to get as much work done as I can in the time that I’ve allotted for myself barring an absolute emergency and then deal with the rest the next time I’m scheduled to deal with it.

I close out my desktop, grab my cold cup of coffee and walk out my office. About half the time, I work in office after I made New York City one of Pray Drink’s main operational hubs. The other half and a lot of times more, I work from home. But I made it a point when Adrian and I purchased, moved into, and renovated this estate to make sure that all the work offices were on an entire different part of the property so that Adrian and I have to walk a fair distance to get to. That way, we can make a clear and physical boundary between the business and family, even though so much of the business and family cross and blur that boundary all the time. At the very least, it means we have to go out our way to work even when we’re at home.

I walk out into the hall, and before I even cross the foyer, I hear the sounds of the television on in the main living area of the house. It’s my children’s favorite room to lounge it, so I gave up trying to keep it clean and always ready for guests a long time ago. I’m not going to limit where my children can and can’t go in their own home… within reason.

“Hey, Ma,” Leon and Lady chorus disinterestedly without looking up from what appears to be homework.

“Hey, Aunt Dele,” Velia says from where she’s lying on her stomach in front of the television watching some makeover show.

“Hello,” I reply back, not at all annoyed at their apparent disinterest. With the twins eleven and Velia not that far behind, they’re getting to the age where they only want anything to do with me when they want something to do with me.

“Mommy!”

But there is one person who’s always ecstatic to see me still. I kneel down to Bella’s level as she throws her arms around my neck in a hug. I use one arm to swing her onto my hip before standing and heading to the kitchen.

“Were you good for your nanny?” I ask.

Bella nods vigorously, her dark curls bouncing back and forth as she does so. I’ll ask her nanny and then judge that. At three years old, she’s a curious thing with enough energy to explore it. She can hardly sit still long enough to go over her letters, sight words, and colors before she wants to get up and run. Preferably outside, but inside will do.

I pop the coffee in the microwave, and, curious as ever, Bella leans forward to look at it before turning to me and asks, “Can I have some?”

“No. But you can have some juice? Where’s your cup?”

Bella makes a show of looking around, her hair flinging everywhere as she does so—and I could have sworn I put it in two braids with bows before passing her off to her nanny.

After she’s finished swiveling in my arms to look around the kitchen, she looks at me with big blue eyes and says with a shrug, “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you go look for it? Ask Leon to help you,” I say, setting her down.

Bella nods again and runs out the kitchen only to run straight into a pair of legs and falling back on her bottom.

“Watch out there, Little Bell,” Adrian says as he bends down to help Bella get back to her feet.

I’m not sure how long Bella is going to like Adrian calling her a name that makes her a diminutive of her mother, but it’s fitting. She’s the spitting image of me. The only distinction are the blue eyes she inherited from Adrian.

The jury’s still out on her personality.

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