Chapter 120: Epilogue

Years later…

Haden

As I buttoned my shirt, the sharp trill of my phone sliced through the quiet of our bedroom. My brows twitched. No one called this late unless it was urgent or stupid. I ignored it, sliding the last button through its loop. If it was important, they'd leave a voicemail.

It rang again less than a minute later. Persistent. Impatient.

With a sigh that said more than I ever could, I checked the screen.

Kaleb.

My brows furrowed. Why the hell was he calling this late?

Still, I answered.

"Long time no see," I muttered as I slid on my Armani suit jacket, adjusting the lapels with automatic precision.

"Haden, I've got a problem."

"You have many. Which one's this?" I replied dryly, lips curling into a smirk when I heard his frustrated exhale through the receiver.

From the corner of my eye, Ella emerged from the walk-in wardrobe. The air caught in my throat.

Navy blue silk clung to her like a second skin, every curve sculpted to perfection, her neckline low enough to tempt any man in sight. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, and her earrings shimmered as she moved.

I’d seen her in every state, angry, soft, wild, pregnant, raw with emotion. Yet moments like this still made my thoughts stutter. I could’ve canceled every meeting, skipped every event, just to trace the path of that dress down her spine.

But tonight wasn’t about that.

The Governor’s Ball was less of a celebration and more of a performance. We’d received a personal invitation. Which meant he either wanted something buried or something protected. Probably both. Politicians didn’t invite men like me unless they had skeletons they feared I’d dig up.

Still, it gave Ella a reason to wear silk and slip into heels. With five kids at home, her days were chaos laced with love and exhaustion. She deserved tonight. Even if I had to fake a smile through it.

"I'm serious," Kaleb said, snapping me back. His voice was tight. Strained.

"I'm listening."

"Nick is alive."

My eyes immediately shifted to Ella. She'd frozen mid-step, wide-eyed. She didn’t speak, but I saw it in her face, she’d heard everything.

I sighed and adjusted my jacket again, slower this time.

"I know."

I had known for a few months now. But Nick was laying low which was both a good thing and a red flag.

"He's going after Mia," Kaleb added, urgency laced through every syllable.

"Not surprising," I answered coolly. "She did try to kill him."

"Only because he was putting his hands on her!"

"Kaleb, I know. You don't need to explain it to me."

"He wants Henry and Julian."

"Well," I said slowly, "he is their father."

"You and I both know Nick isn't fit to take care of children."

Kaleb wasn’t wrong.

Nick had always been volatile. Quick to anger, slower to reason. Dangerous even when calm. The kind of man who looked for fire even when there wasn’t any. Mia had shot him to protect herself, and then ran straight into Kaleb’s arms. Married him. Tried to build something stable.

And now Nick wanted revenge.

The entire situation was a damn powder keg. Ghidora was split clean down the middle. Some sided with Kaleb, arguing that he and Mia had always been the real thing, that her marriage to Nick was nothing but a legal formality bound by family pressure and false promises. But others… others saw Kaleb as a traitor of the worst kind. Mia and Nick had history. High school sweethearts, if you wanted to romanticize it. So when Kaleb started seeing her, it was already a scandal. But marrying her? After she shot Nick? That wasn’t just betrayal, it was blasphemy. In their eyes, he should’ve put a bullet in her, not a ring. Now, with Nick back from the dead and out for blood, the tension in the air was thick, flammable, waiting for one wrong move to set it all ablaze.

The streets in Dyvercity were one spark away from an inferno.

"So," I said finally, voice calm despite the weight behind it, "what are you asking me, K?"

"I'm asking you to step in and talk to Nick."

"And you think he'll listen to me?" I scoffed, rubbing the back of my neck.

"I think you've got a better chance than anyone else. At least he won't try to shoot you."

He had a point.

Ella’s gaze found mine again. The room felt smaller, tighter, her concern pressing against the air like a storm cloud. She didn’t need to say anything. I could feel it radiating off her.

I muted the call and turned toward her.

"What do you think?" I asked softly.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and for a second, I saw more than just worry. I saw the woman who’d lived through war with me. Who’d raised our children in the middle of a blood-drenched empire. Who’d stitched me back together more times than I could count.

"If you don't," she said gently, "Dyvercity is going to turn into a bigger war zone."

I nodded once, then turned back and unmuted the phone.

"We'll be there first thing in the morning."

Morning came too quickly.

By the time we pulled into Dyvercity, the sky had barely shaken off its haze, and the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. Ella had stayed behind with the kids, but I could feel her concern lingering with me like a second skin. She didn’t need to say anything. I carried her worry in my chest the same way I carried my Glock under my jacket: always present, always ready.

Kaleb and I drove in silence, the kind of quiet that didn’t need filling. He was brooding. Understandable. I was calculating. Also understandable. The meeting spot was a run-down warehouse on the city’s outskirts, all rusted siding and busted windows, classic Nick. Theatrics and drama, always needing a stage for his chaos.

We parked. Stepped out. The crunch of gravel under our shoes echoed too loudly in the stillness.

Inside, Nick was already waiting.

He stood under a fractured skylight, his broad, muscular frame cutting a commanding figure against the slats of dusty morning light. A black cane hung loosely in his right hand, sleek, unadorned, except for the silver wolf head at the top. It gleamed like it had teeth.

He shifted slightly. The limp was almost imperceptible, but I caught it. Still, it didn’t make him look weak, it made him look dangerous. Like a wounded animal that had learned how to bite harder. The cane didn’t take away from his menace. It added to it. A weapon disguised as support.

Kaleb’s voice sliced through the stillness before I could speak.

"You think you can just show up out of nowhere and start making demands?" he snapped. His posture was tight, lean body taut like a bowstring.

Nick didn’t flinch. He tilted his head, and that damn wolf cane caught the light again as he adjusted his grip. The smirk that touched his lips was slow, deliberate, sharp as a knife drawn in dim light.

"Nice to see you too, Kaleb," he said, voice low and rich with mockery. "You’ve done well for yourself, married my wife, playing daddy to my kids. Must be nice."

Kaleb’s fists clenched. He took a hard step forward.

I lifted a hand to his chest. A silent warning.

Not yet.

"We're here to talk," I said evenly. Calm, controlled. "So let’s keep it civil."

"Civil?" Nick echoed, raising an eyebrow. He stepped forward and planted the cane in front of him with a firm thunk. "You mean like how they were civil when Mia shot me? Or how Kaleb was civil when he ran off with her instead of facing me like a man?"

Kaleb surged, and this time he didn’t hold back.

I moved fast, stepping between them, my voice cutting clean through the static in the air.

"Enough!" I barked, tone edged with command. "We're not here to relive the past. Let's talk about the present."

Nick’s smirk faltered slightly, a flash of something colder twisting his expression. Then he straightened, broad shoulders rolling back as he fixed his gaze on me.

"Fine. Here's the deal. I want my kids."

Kaleb bristled beside me, every muscle in his frame tense.

"Over my dead body."

"Careful, Kaleb," Nick said, tone dipping into something darker, almost amused. He tapped the cane once against the concrete. "That can be arranged."

I shot him a warning look.

Nick met it, but didn’t challenge it. Unhinged as he was, he knew better than to push me.

"You know as well as I do that Julian is mine. And Henry, well… we both know he’s neither of yours." He chuckled then, a low, bitter sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "He’s my family, not yours, Kaleb. So, here’s how it’s going to go: you’re going to hand them over, or things get ugly."

The next moment happened too fast.

Kaleb threw a punch, square to Nick’s jaw. The sound echoed through the warehouse like a gunshot. Nick’s head snapped to the side. The cane slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, but he barely staggered. His body absorbed the blow like stone.

As I grabbed Kaleb’s arm to pull him back, Nick straightened slowly. He rolled his jaw once, then grinned. It wasn’t friendly.

"That temper of yours is going to get you killed," he muttered.

Kaleb’s rage boiled over. He lunged again, throwing another strike.

But this time, Nick was ready.

With almost lazy precision, he raised his cane and cracked it hard against Kaleb’s forearm. The impact echoed. Kaleb stumbled, briefly thrown off, but not enough to stop him.

He came again.

Nick dropped the cane completely. Stepped into the blow like a predator. He slammed his shoulder into Kaleb’s chest, hard. Kaleb hit the ground with a thud, the breath knocked from his lungs.

Nick stood over him, looming like a shadow.

"You really don’t know when to quit, do you?" His voice was low. A growl wrapped in control. Dangerous, but not wild.

I stepped forward again.

"Enough," I said, firm and final.

Nick didn’t move for a second. Just stared down at Kaleb.

Then, like a switch flipped, he stepped back. The moment passed. Barely.

Kaleb rose, slow and seething. I kept a hand on his arm, stilling him.

"You're lucky I'm not in the mood for this," Nick muttered.

I turned my focus to him, stepping closer.

"Do you even hear yourself?" I asked coldly. "You think this is what’s best for your kids? Snatching them away from their mother out of spite? This isn’t about them. This is about you."

Nick’s smirk faded. His jaw flexed, eyes narrowing.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Haden."

"Don't I?" I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. "I know plenty. I know about your past. The stories. The whispers. What you survived. What you became. All the pain, the vows you made never to be like them, like your father and here you are. Everything you swore not to become."

His silence said enough.

"If you really care about your sons, you’ll let them have a chance at peace. A stable life. You’d have them now if you hadn’t touched Mia. Even if you thought she deserved it, it wasn’t right. You know it. That’s why she pulled the trigger."

Nick gripped the cane again, tight enough his knuckles whitened. But he didn’t lash out.

Instead, he laughed. Bitter. Cold.

"You always were good at this, Haden," he said. "Talking circles around people. Making them doubt themselves."

Of course I was. That’s why I sit on the throne.

"It’s not doubt, Nick," I said. "It’s truth. Do the right thing."

He stared at me for a long time. Then, slowly, he exhaled. His massive shoulders lowered, just slightly. The war still raged behind his eyes, but the weapons were sheathed for now.

"You want the kids?" he said finally, voice low, almost dismissive. "Fine. You can have them. For now."

The air shifted, but no one relaxed.

Kaleb’s jaw ticked. "Don’t think for a second that this is over, Nick."

Nick stepped forward, the cane tapping once, twice, with deliberate menace.

"It’s over for today, Kaleb. But it’s not over for good. You may have them now… but mark my words, eventually, my boys will seek me out. You won’t be able to stop it. And when they do? There’ll be nothing you can do about it."

Kaleb stiffened. The words hit hard. Because they weren’t empty. They were calculated.

I met Nick’s gaze, steel to steel.

"Don’t make threats you can’t back up."

He looked at me.

And unlike with Kaleb, there was no smirk. Just a quiet, twisted kind of respect.

"It’s not a threat," he said. "It’s a fact. Those boys will grow up. And when they do, they’ll want answers. They’ll want blood. They’ll want me."

Kaleb took a step forward, still raging. "You think you can just walk back in like a ghost and rewrite the past? You're delusional."

Nick grinned again. Dark. Deadly. "We’ll see about that, won’t we?"

The warehouse seemed to close in around us again, the silence after his words loud as sirens.

There was nothing left to say.

I gave Kaleb a subtle nudge. Time to go. He didn’t argue.

But as we turned, Nick’s voice followed us, low and final:

"They’ll come back to me. And when they do… you’ll regret every second you spent thinking you could keep them."

We didn’t look back.

But the truth of it hung behind us like smoke. Thick. Lingering.

Because deep down, I knew...

Nick wasn’t wrong.

The drive back to Kaleb's house was quiet, heavy with the weight of everything Nick had said. The silence wasn’t awkward, it was calculated. Tension pressed between us like a third passenger. Kaleb’s jaw was locked tight, eyes distant, mind spiraling. But I didn’t press. There wasn’t anything left to say. Not yet.

For now, all we could do was let it simmer and prepare for the next inevitable confrontation.

When we pulled into the driveway, the familiar hum of home settled over us like a balm. Kaleb's house had become a kind of sanctuary amidst the madness. A temporary illusion of peace in a life that rarely allowed it.

Inside, warmth greeted us immediately. The soft chatter of voices. Laughter. The shuffle of little feet and the distant sound of a cartoon theme song.

Mia and Ella were seated on the floor, surrounded by a whirl of activity. Nylah, our youngest, was perched on the couch cradling a doll, her small brow furrowed in concentration. Jaxson and Jasion, the twins, were locked in a competitive battle over who could build the tallest tower with brightly colored blocks. Jayden and Jalen lay sprawled out on the rug, each immersed in a different game, while Ella and Mia bounced seamlessly between them all, soothing, redirecting, engaging.

Ella moved with a kind of grace that never ceased to stop me cold. Calm amidst the chaos. One arm reaching to wipe something sticky from Jasion’s cheek, the other already in motion catching a block before it clattered to the floor. Her voice was soft, her laugh light, her presence grounding. This was the peace I craved. The only kind that ever lasted in our world.

Kaleb stood beside me, quiet for a long moment as he took it all in. His brow creased as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

"How do you do it, Haden?" he asked finally, his voice low and almost reverent. "With five kids, no less. You and Ella make it look easy."

I let out a short laugh, eyes still on her. "It’s not easy," I said honestly. "But I have Ella. She’s the reason it works. She keeps everything moving. She’s the heart of this family."

Kaleb followed my gaze. I didn’t need to look at him to know what was in his eyes, admiration, maybe envy, definitely respect.

"She’s something else, huh?"

I nodded slowly, the edges of my mouth lifting into a smile. "She is. I don’t know how she does it, but I’m damn glad she does."

There was a beat of silence before I added, more to myself than him, "I think I want more."

Kaleb turned to me like I’d sprouted a second head. "More? Are you crazy?" He laughed a short, disbelieving sound. "You already have five. What, you trying to build a whole soccer team?"

I shrugged, unbothered. "Yeah, I do. I want a big family. I want our kids surrounded by people who love them. People they can rely on. I can’t give them that alone, but with Ella? We can. We’ve got a good thing going."

Kaleb went quiet again. His eyes swept across the room, over the toy-strewn floor, the mismatched socks, the chatter, the minor squabbles, the shared giggles. His features softened, and I caught the flicker of understanding on his face.

"You really are crazy, Haden," he said, though this time, there was no teasing in it. "But I get it."

Across the room, I caught the sound of Mia’s soft laughter. Gabriel, Kaleb’s son from a past relationship, sat at her side, proudly holding up a drawing. She leaned in, genuinely engaged, her voice warm and full of praise as she ruffled his hair.

She treated him like her own. Always had.

Mia wasn’t perfect, hell, not by a long shot. But when it came to the kids, she didn’t falter. She gave her all. That mattered. More than anything else, that mattered.

Not far from them, Julian and Henry were curled up on a bean bag, the older guiding the younger through a picture book. Julian’s animated expressions drew wide-eyed laughter from Henry, and despite the tension that lived in their bloodlines, the boys looked content. Whole. Julian looked like Nick—sharp features, intense eyes—but Mia was in there too, softening the edges. Henry was Nick through and through, but paler, with his mother’s laugh.

Complicated blood. Tangled roots. But Mia made no distinctions. She loved them both fiercely, and in our world, that wasn’t just rare—it was sacred.

Kaleb noticed it too. I saw the pride in his expression as he watched Mia guide Julian’s hand along the page.

There was no Kamia running toward him, no toddler giggles or high-pitched squeals. But there was still love. Still unity. Still something worth holding onto.

"She really is a good mom," Kaleb said suddenly, his voice quiet.

I nodded. "She is. And I’ll back her for that. No matter how much she grates on my nerves."

Kaleb chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You’re a good man, Haden."

"I know," I replied with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes, but the weight between us had lifted slightly.

Across the room, Ella was easing a fussy Nylah into her lap while simultaneously catching a falling tower before Jaxson could protest. Somehow, she still managed to laugh at something Mia said, her joy bubbling through the room like sunlight through open windows.

I watched her, chest full.

I didn’t have to like Mia. And she didn’t have to like me. But this? This made it all worth it. The boys were happy. They were safe. They were surrounded by people who loved them, who showed up, who tried.

Ella looked up and caught my gaze. That knowing smile tugged at her lips, the one that told me she’d been reading my thoughts before I could even shape them.

She always did.

And just like that, the world outside didn’t matter.

Whatever storms were coming, we’d face them together.

Thank you so much for reading this book! I have read all of your wonderful comments and just want to say thank you so much for giving my story a chance!