“Don’t leave me hanging,” she snips. “Did something happen to the bakery?”
Nodding, I get up and retrieve my phone. “Yeah,” I say, forcing my tone to sound serious. “It’s not ours, Alina.”
She pushes herself up, so she’s sitting. “What do you mean? Mom left me half, and you bought—”
Sitting back down, I press my finger against her lips to silence her. “When I bought Sabrina’s share, it was meant to be my wedding present to you—”
“What?” she interrupts. “But you never told me that.”
“I’m telling you now,” I state. “When I didn’t get around to giving it to you at our wedding, I wanted it to be your birthday present. For some reason, there was never a perfect time. So I’m giving it to you now, wife. The bakery, the apartment, the building… it’s all yours.”
Tears gather in her pale blue eyes. “R-really?” she hiccups.
I seal the promise with a kiss, already planning the security detail I’ll have in place, the measures I’ve taken to ensure no one ever threatens her again. But those are details she doesn’t need to worry about.
My job is to keep her safe while she reclaims every piece of herself—and discovers new ones in the process.
“Really,” I confirm when I pull away from her. Then I show her the papers on my phone. “See, all yours.”
Epilogue 2
Alina
6 months and 20 days later.
The bell above the door chimes as I push it open, stepping into my kingdom of sugar and flour. It’s been six months since reclaiming the space, and sometimes I still catch my breath at the transformation.
My bakery—truly mine now—from the gleaming new countertops to the fresh seafoam green paint that brightens the walls. Almost everything is new and shiny, making it as beautiful as I always envisioned it could look.
My hands move to cradle my small baby bump, a secret joy only visible when I’m wearing fitted clothes like today’s red cashmere shirt.
Valentine’s Day has turned the bakery into a haven of heart-shaped cookies, and even batches of penis-shaped ones. Though those aren’t on display since a lot of families come here.
The raunchy shapes were Raven’s idea. At first, I laughed, but then she showed me the research she’d done, and now, they’re our biggest seller. Not just today, but every weekend. Something about it makes people laugh and let loose.
And it’s not just people who are into that particular shape who buy them. Oh, no. I’ve sold plenty to men who wanted to make their wife or girlfriend laugh.
“Morning, boss,” Molly calls from behind the counter, her curly blonde hair peeking out from beneath a red bandana. She’s arranging a platter of raspberry-filled linzer cookies, the powdered sugar dusting her fingers like winter frost.
I smile, inhaling the familiar scent of yeast and vanilla that feels more like home than any mansion ever could. “Those look perfect. How’s the morning rush been?”
The best thing about not just owning the entire business, but also having the finances to do exactly what I want, I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night anymore. I usually show up around ten, unless I need to fill in for someone.
“We’ve been slammed since six,” Corey answers, emerging from the kitchen with a tray of fresh croissants. He’s grown more confident in the months since I returned—less hesitant, more invested. “But we’re keeping up. The new oven’s a game-changer.”
Pride swells in my chest as I survey what we’ve accomplished together. The ancient display cases have been replaced with sleek glass and brushed steel. The clunky old register is gone,replaced by a tablet system that makes inventory tracking almost painless.
Even the floors shine with new tiles, no trace remaining of the worn patches that once marked high-traffic areas.
“Have you seen the sales numbers from the pre-orders?” Allie appears beside me, tablet in hand, her practical efficiency balancing my creative instincts perfectly. “We’ve doubled last year’s Valentine’s revenue already.”
When Raffaele first introduced me to Allie, I was ready to hate her. But how could I when she looked after my bakery with the care that she did? She’s never overstepped, and I’ve never had to pull rank. That’s why I’ve kept her on.
I nod, still taking it all in. Every decision, every renovation—they’ve all been mine to make. No debt hanging over my head, no ghosts dictating my choices. Just me and the team I’ve carefully built, creating something beautiful from the ashes of what came before.
“Well, well, well. Is that Mrs. Brewer-Russo I see?” A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to find Piper waving from a corner table, Raven beside her juggling what appears to be two squirming bundles.
“Go,” Allie nudges me with a smile. “Your friends are waiting. I’ve got this covered.”
