Taming Pierce

epilogue

an:
before you read this chapter, don't forget to read Chapter 37 and 38

I added Chapter 37 at the request of those who wanted to read the proposal scene so it went up later

***

☆
e p i l o g u e

Casteel was his Mama's favorite.

When she was alive, of course.

Then his fucking no good of a brother Sebastian murdered her in childbirth.

Casteel had been the last one his Mama had seen. She had told him how proud she was of his grades at school, how he would be the brightest of all her kids, and how Alexander couldn't hold a candle to what Mama's little Cas could do. Casteel was special. He was Mama's boy.

Then she asked him for a glass of water. Hers had emptied and she needed water oh so badly that little Cas had to go.

When he came back, glass in hand, Mama was no more.

That was the day Casteel Lorenzo lost the only person who loved him unconditionally. Without Mama, Casteel was left with a family who didn't give two shits about the middle child. He could do anything he wanted to do. He would play for hours, not come home until late at night and no one would ask him where he was.

His father was busy with Alexander, the perfect son, the heir to his empire, and Alexander was busy with that little shit Sebastian who took Mama from them.

His brothers never meant much to him. They were just family. Someone to call when he got himself in a mess which never happened.

Everyone feared the monster under their beds and Casteel was the monster under everyone's beds.

Who would ever mess with a monster?

He had been living his life as it went until one day, one little girl hiding behind the Hitman Holland caught his eye.

Casteel didn't know why he wanted her. She was special. She was as innocent as a freshly plucked flower.

Little did he know how much he would trample that flower until it wasn't a flower anymore.

That flower had a name and right now, Casteel couldn't remember her name.

Was it Tasha? Tara?

He couldn't be sure. She had a strange name.

Not that he was thinking of her tonight.

His mind was occupied by someone else—someone who had her pussy clenching around his dick in the back alley of a bar some hours ago.

Someone with grey eyes and soft, blonde hair, someone who smelled way too good.

He had left those grey eyes all the way back in New York but as he stumbled upon his drunk ass to enter his home, Casteel felt like he carried the pain in them with him.

"Mi famiglia!" He announced his arrival as he stepped foot into the grandiose porch of his mansion. "The prodigal son has returned!"

He found his soldati at every door, stood straight, and their expressions firm. They snapped their heads at him as he padded into the Persian carpets, the scent of home sending an ache to his chest.

He hated the organ in his chest. It fucked him up at the worst times.

One of the soldati, a man Casteel remembered as old man Declan, stepped forward.