“And it’s time for my breakfast.”
I slide down her body, slow, savoring the way her skin pebbles beneath my mouth.
She laughs softly, breath catching as I nudge the sheet down her hips. Her thighs part for me without a word.
Automatically. Trustingly. Mine.
She is mine.
And I plan to spend the rest of the morning—and the rest of my life—proving I’m hers.
Epilogue 1-Atlas
Six months later…
Tonight we hosted a dinner party for some of the family, the O’Doyles, the Callahans, the Botarellis, Sammy and Aella, Balor and Lucy, Junior and Leanna, and Remy and Andrea. Plus all their kids.
It was an uproarious affair. Laughter, food, and plenty of tall tales.
But there’s a contented kind of silence you only get when the last bottle’s been opened, the food's all been eaten and put away, and the women we fought like hell to win are safe in our arms.
We’re scattered around a firepit on my back terrace in Rumson Castle, which is what they all call it. The guest bedrooms have all been made up. And the moon’s sitting high over the Atlantic, waves crashing like applause against the cliffs.
The manse behind us glows with warm lights and laughter—our wives somewhere inside, probably charming the children into their PJs, getting last-minute snacks and drinks, and making whatever womanly magic they always seem to do so effortlessly.
I take a long sip of scotch and let the burn settle deep as I take a glance around the fire at all eight of us out here.
Eight men.
Eight ghosts turned kings of our own little castles.
And every single one of us bleeds the same truth now that the dust has cleared.
We didn’t just close the deals of our lives when we walked into this enormous circle, we call the Volkov Clan.
We married them.
Liam O’Doyle leans back in his chair, arms crossed and grin lazy.
“Funny thing. I thought I’d die first before I let anyone touch my heart the way Michaela did. Turns out I just had to live long enough to realize she was the only one who could.”
Connor Callahan snorts.
“You’re getting soft, Irish. And don’t pretend like you didn’t chase her halfway across town first.”
“I followed her a little bit, bro,” Liam corrects. “Big difference.”
Connor rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah, well. I told myself I’d never fall for a woman so young and innocent. But Clementine took me down with one look and wound up saving my old ass.”
Ono Botarelli cracks a rare smile, his crystalline gaze watching the fire. “My wife doctored me, ran from me, and had me ready to kill half of Jersey City for just looking at her.”
“And?” Nico Fury Jr. grins over the rim of his glass.
“And in the end, I begged her to take my name.”
Laughter echoes across the terrace. Remy’s sitting with one leg draped over the arm of his chair like he owns the night.
“My woman wanted to use me as her own personal sperm bank. Thought she was gonna have my babies without me.”
