Page 183 of Villainous Kingpin
He swallowed my sigh in his mouth, kissing me wet and rough until he nipped my bottom lip.
“There has been nobody else for me, Wynter. You are my star, moon, and sun. I love you and I’ll never give you up. It’d take a better man than me. It's a good thing we’ve established from the beginning that I'm not a good man. I’m a villain.”
My heart glowed in my chest and fire spread through my veins. “But you’re my villain. I love you,” I breathed, my throat choking with all these emotions. “After I left, I felt dead inside. My mom said love shatters you but it’s not true. Giving you up shattered me.”
“Fuck, principessa,” he rasped, kissing me with a new kind of possession and demand. “We’re in it for life. I’ll make you happy, I promise.”
I smiled, tasting salt on my lips. “I’ll make you happy too, Bas. I promise.”
He was my fairy tale. My villainous prince.
Epilogue
BASILIO -SEVEN YEARS LATER
St. Jean d’Arc School Opening.
Unofficially, the school of badass females. Though there are plenty of boys in it.
“Daddy, when I get big can I go to school here?” My four-year-old asked. My little Miss Independent was the spitting image of Wynter. Her big green eyes shimmered as she met my gaze. She knew how to play me, like a goddamn fiddle.
And I let her. Every damn time because I couldn’t bear to see her unhappy. Fallon, true to her name's meaning, knew how to rule a room and the people in it. Much to Wynter’s dismay.
My wife called it payback for the shit we’d done. I called it a fucking blessing.
“Only if I come.” My eldest chimed in. Even at six-years-old, Grayson acted like an overbearing big brother. “Nobody touches my sisters.” He was a fucking terror and occasionally took protection of his two younger sisters to a whole new level.
Our youngest, twenty-month-old Noelle, flapped her legs and arms, excited to hear her big brother’s voice.
“You’re not coming,” Fallon screeched her protest in indignation. “Badass females. You’re not a female.”
She raised her hand like she was going to smack the shit out of her big brother when I snagged her hand.
“No hitting, Fallon,” I scolded her and her green eyes filled with fire. “And no bad words. Mommy won’t be fucking happy if she hears it. And I promised your mamma, I’d always make her happy.”
With her blonde, curly pigtails, and her big eyes, she looked like an angel. Until she got pissed off. Then she was a fucking monster in disguise.
Did I mention Fallon had a fucking Irish temper?
Just like her damn Aunt Jules.
Our family was a fucking nightmare. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“Hitting is bad,” I explained, my voice stern.
The baby squirmed in my arms like a wild animal, squealing, “Down. Down.”
“Whatever,” Fallon muttered, rolling her eyes.Are four-year-olds even supposed to roll their eyes?Fuck if I knew. All I knew was that Fallon would drive a fucking saint to drink.
“Hello, Mr. DiLustro.” Two sets of blue eyes met mine. Nico Morrelli’s eldest daughters. Their father and mom slowly approached us with their own little hellions.
“Hannah. Arianna.” I could never figure out which one was which so I just let it go. “Looking forward to going to school here?”
“Hell yeah,” one of them answered. “Can't wait to taste freedom.”
Yep, those two would be trouble.
“Hey, Basilio.” Bianca was first to greet me, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. Yes, these women were setting some new, supposedly normal, standards around here. Nico growled and his wife rolled her eyes. Their twenty kids ran around wild. Okay, maybe not twenty but lots of kids. Twins. How in the fuck they kept them straight, I had no fucking idea.
