Sweet Little Lies

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four

It had taken weeks, but Ivy now watched as her husband paced the kitchen, staring at his phone. They were waiting for the update from the hired guns that were in charge of killing Patrick Styles in prison. They had two men on the inside - Harry thought there could even be more inside that they weren't divulging.

They had gotten the alert this morning to expect news in the late evening. They were forced to separate and go to work at their respective jobs as to not raise suspicion. Ivy had a hard time with that, wanting to be by Harry just in case. He had been quiet since they got the notification.

This would mark the true end to this war. They would be free just as everything was falling into place. Ivy knew there would be more wars and challenges and death in the years to come. Their entire lives would be plagued with those who sought power over them. Hopefully, their alliances with the circle would be acting enough to keep them safe. For the first time in her life, Ivy believed she had people she could trust outside her family.

Their tea was getting cold on the counter, but neither of them touched the cups. They were drawn in an attempt to settle any nerves, but that proved fruitless. Ivy waked around the counter and stopped Harry.

His green eyes met hers, face stoic and unreadable to everyone but her. She reached up, cupping his face. No words were necessary, and Ivy saw her husband soften under her touch. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers, arms wrapping around her body to hold her. Ivy molded to him, one hand moving to the back of his neck, the other staying on his cheek, thumb caressing the prickly unshaved skin.

They stood in silence, embracing one another for a few minutes. Only the faint beeping from Harry's phone pushed them apart. Ivy stood by his side at the counter as he checked his phone.

A few moments of heavy silence, then, "It's done."

Harry looked at her, a weight lifted off him in an instant.

"It's done?" She repeated.

With a nod, he breathed out a laugh. It wasn't one of humor or even joy, but of relief. "We're free."

Ivy smiled, kissing him quickly. Harry devoured her, taking over instantly. Her back pressed against the counter, his large hands squeezing her sides. It didn't go any further than a kiss, but it set her skin on fire.

Patrick Styles' death meant more than just being free of threat. There was now no reason to hold back. Ivy saw a future with Harry that no one but him could have made her want. There was a large house, vacations with lazy days, kids running around with dark curls and green eyes. This was the start of a family for Ivy, a family that she could do right, love right.

Neither Ivy nor Harry would ever give their fathers an ounce of credit when getting them together. It might have been their deal, struck in the attic of her father's favorite bar, that forced them together. Harry was hers in a way that there wasn't a shred of doubt they wouldn't have found their way to each other without their father's interference.

Harry's phone rang, forcing them apart once more. With a groan, he checked it. "It's the police."

"Calling to inform you." Ivy said, wiping his lips, "Better put on a great performance."

He smirked at her, kissing her once more, then answered his phone in his normal, gruff voice, "Styles, here."

†††

"Everything okay?"

Griffin looked up from his laptop to see CeCe walking in to the living room. She was out at a dance class she had just joined, so her hair was messy, face a little flushed and she was still in her dance clothes.