Part of Your World

Epilogue

Three Years Later, January

Maks

New York City

I pulled my arms through the starched shirt sleeves, dressing as appropriately as one could for such an event. My eyes caught sight of my chest in the mirror, the round, puckered scar above my heart a constant reminder of what I'd gone through to protect her. I would do it all over again—would gladly die for her. She knew that, I made sure of it. Nothing in my life was more important than Aria.

With a soft smile, I buttoned the shirt up. The bathroom door opened, and her little feet padded over to me. She encircled her arms around my waist, difficult as it was for her lately. I grinned, turning, staring down at my glowing siren, her sea foam eyes wavering with desire. I chuckled, reaching for her cheek as I brushed my thumb over her smooth skin. Her orange hair was pulled up in an elegant style, her dress black, hugging all her new curves. Curves that made me ache to bury myself into her again and again.

"Fuck, baby girl. You know it's getting harder and harder to tie you up," I said, leaning in, pecking a kiss to her lips. She gave a soft laugh—a noise that would never cease to make my knees weak. Now that she had regained her voice, all I ever wanted to do was listen to her. She could yell at me for eating her stash of salted pretzels, and I would still find it sexy as hell.

She planted her hands across her wide belly, glancing down. My heart leapt into my throat, as it so often did these days, watching her body sacrifice itself to grow our child. She was a martyr, saying she loved every moment, from the puking to the stretch marks to her swollen feet and hands. It was something I would never understand, but I think I knew how she felt, in my own way.

As fiercely as I protected her, I would do the same for our child.

"He's kicking so much today," she breathed, placing my hand on her lower side. I felt him, then, rolling or kicking, I wasn't sure. She always said he, but we'd decided to wait until birth to find out. She often said mothers just knew what their children would be, and I believed her, but that didn't stop me from being scared as fuck. A son? If he was even slightly like me, we were fucked.

"Tell him to take it easy on you during your performance," I teased, leaning in once more to press my lips to hers. She gazed up at me as I pulled away, her eyes so full of love they were overflowing. Life had been different ever since that fateful day at the lake. Better, in most ways. We felt more secure in her safety. And I'd paid her father a visit once I'd healed from my wounds. Needless to say, he was now in jail, and her sisters were given the full story—save for what I do for a living.

Her eldest sister took over Ceto Inc., and even wrote Aria back into the will. All she had wanted, though, was her mother's matching necklace. She wore it, now, right next to hers. Her and Ellie had had many discussions lately about life without their mothers, especially during such a pivotal moment in their lives.

Sure, I could be there for her every step of the way, but it would never replace her mother. Ms. Watson, however, had all but taken over control of Aria's life. They were two peas in a pod, never able to sit still when there was cleaning to be done. Even though we'd moved to the Hamptons, Ms. Watson had followed. I was grateful, albeit a tad annoyed.

We'd been staying in my penthouse for the last few days. Aria had been asked by the Lincoln Center to perform for a portion of a ballet show. She'd gone back to school, completed her degree, and now worked as a violinist for the symphony. Every day, I was in awe of all she had accomplished in such a short period of time.

From proposing, to traveling, to marriage, to now a child right around the corner, we'd been swept up into a whirlwind of love and bliss. I could never imagine life without her by my side. She made me a better person daily. She was and would always be my better half. Even my parents had warmed to her, which was saying a lot considering their previous attitudes toward her.