Page 181 of Riot

Somewhere along the way, we became a family.

And that truth anchored me in a way nothing else ever had.

The wedding was stunning, of course. King’s Vine had undergone a full PR rebirth; cleaner branding, sustainable initiatives, even a new tasting room that screamed modern elegance. Despite the shootout, it was handled and its reputation is being repaired. But all of that was just background. What mattered most was the emotion hanging in the air. The way Creed looked at Sloane like she was the only real thing in the world. The way Riot looked at me the same way.

And the way I finally, truly felt like I belonged.

I rested my hand on my belly, tracing gentle circles through the fabric of my gown, a pale coral number from my new maternity line. The fabric was silk, draped off one shoulder, cut to hug the body in all the right places without making it feel like a prison. That had been my mission when I started designing again.

I didn’t want maternity wear that screamed utility or hide me.

I wanted power. Softness. Edges and elegance. Because pregnancy didn’t mean disappearing, it meant becoming. And I was becoming everything I was told I couldn’t be.

Designing the collection had been healing. I’d spent long nights sketching, choosing fabrics that felt like forgiveness on the skin. I’d held fittings with models of every size, every walkof life—women who cried in my studio because they hadn’t felt beautiful since their second trimester. I cried with them. I knew what it meant to feel like your body was no longer your own. I also knew how good it felt to take that power back.

My line,Uncaged,had launched last month. And it was already doing numbers.

But none of that compared to the feeling of standing here, belly full of life, fingers wrapped in Riot’s warmth, watching Creed and Sloane seal their vows beneath a sky that held no threats, just promise.

“I can’t believe how far we’ve come,” I murmured to Riot.

His eyes stayed fixed on me. “Believe it. You made this life with your bare hands.”

“No,” I said. “We did. Together.”

He leaned in, his lips grazing my cheek, then trailing to my temple. “You still thinking about that courthouse wedding? Or you want the full white dress moment?”

I laughed, low and soft. “Let’s see how swollen my ankles get. But yeah… I want the moment. The dress. The dancing. The vows. All of it.”

“Say the word and I’ll shut this whole vineyard down just for you.”

“You already gave me everything I needed,” I said, nodding toward Jasir and then down at my belly. “This… this is the dream.”

Riot’s hand tightened over mine. “Then let’s keep building it.”

As the ceremony came to a close and applause erupted around us, I looked back at the path it took to get here—every bruise, every betrayal, every dark room I thought I’d never escape. And I realized something:

The pain didn’t disappear. But it no longer defined me.

I was no longer running from the past.

I was walking straight into the future. Dressed in coral silk, holding the hand of a man who loved me deeply, with a son in my heart and another in my womb.

And for the first time ever…

I was free.

Epilogue

I used to think I was born to destroy shit.

That was the one thing I was sure of, that I could tear a man down faster than I could ever build anything worth keeping.

But then she came.

Six pounds, five ounces of softness and fire. A full head of hair. A scream that told the world she was not to be ignored.

We named her Auriel.

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