“It’s just point and shoot. I’ll hit you eventually,” I said, much to Roman’s amusement.
Waking up in a hospital bed had been a new experience, especially with Violet glued to my side the second I opened my eye. And yes, I may or may not have milked her attention for everything it was worth.
Manipulation? Absolutely. At least until I got medically cleared to do far more interesting things.
After that, I just went back to manipulating her with orgasms.
I might’ve woken up with a cool new scar and half my vision gone… but I got the girl. Honestly? Felt like a fair trade.
Also, I looked fucking badass. I was as handsome as ever, but now I had one pale eye, and one brown. Distinguished, in a tragic-hero, dangerous-heartthrob kind of way.
Which, by the way, also made me look scary as hell whenever Roman called on me to handle his bitch work. I still got to do all the things I enjoyed like planning, plotting, and a bit of high-end thievery. But also, I got to be his council. The devil on his shoulder that talked him into the worst decisions.
We were a… team.
A fucked-up, morally questionable, occasionally explosive team, but a team, nonetheless.
Roman made the calls, and I made sure those callsdidn’t blow up in his face… unless we wanted them to. Maxim handled the muscle, the subtle threats, and thenot-so-subtleones.
And together, somehow, we kept his territory from burning down.
Or, uh, burning downtoo much.
But even with all that, even with the late-night strategy sessions, the adrenaline highs, and Roman pretending he wasn’t deeply attached to me like some grumpy cat… nothing compared to going home at the end of it.
Because home was Violet.
She’d wait for me in our bed, wrapped in one of my shirts, hair messy, likely covered in paint, and she’d give me a single look.
Like she loved me.
I lived for that look.
I lived forher.
And yeah, I’d lost vision in one eye, nearly died, been shot, stabbed, punched, and emotionally terrorised, but somehow?
Somehow, I’d ended up exactly where I was meant to be.
With her.
Epilogue Part 2
Violet
“I’m so proud of you!” Bug squeaked, crushing me in what must be our tenth hug. “I told you you’d get your own show, and babe, theart!”
“Thank you,” I murmured, hugging her tightly before gently stepping back, my gaze already scanning the room.
Bug caught the look, pursed her lips, and then rolled her eyes with a knowing sigh. “He disappeared into the cloakroom about two minutes ago.”
I grinned. “Thanks!”
Giving her a quick wave, I began weaving through the sea of people trying to catch my attention. Everyone wanted to talk, but all I needed was a moment tobreathe. To take in the fact that this was real.
My first solo show.
My art.
