𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄 is bustling with Underworld-oriented guests as Esmeralda, Aeris and I are directed to our seats. I smile at the waitress as she hands us our menus, tells us about the gun menu should we need it, and leaves us to our devices.

Esmeralda ruffles her long, brunette hair over one shoulder and crosses her legs, peering at the menu while Aeris excuses himself and runs to the bathroom.

The three of us have been on a year-long traveling spree, expanding and opening the borders of our mafias to better suit, not only ourselves, but our allies around the world.

I've worked on rebuilding the Italian mafia's Estate, closing it out only a week ago, while Aeris has overseen Russian business, and even created a bond between the Spain and the Irish yesterday.

"Man, I'm starving," Esmeralda whimpers, pulling through the pages.

"You ate on the plane," I roll my eyes.

"Peanuts and champagne are hardly dinner," she fights back, "I need something so big, I have to change out my bag within the next hour."

I scrunch my nose as she discusses her colostomy bag at the dinner table.

Esmeralda had survived the attack on her last year, but at the cost of her healthy bowels. Aleksandr Petrov had practically disemboweled her and left her for dead, but the doctors had managed to save enough of it that if she were to get the surgery reversed, it'd be possible.

"I thought you were having surgery soon," I ask her, taking a menu myself.

"I was," she shrugs, "But I think I'm going to keep it for a little longer. It reminds me of Eden, carrying around what she did for the majority of her life."

Her words wrap around me as I reach up and dip my fingers into my half-up, half-down hairstyle I adopted after Blaine's passing. I don't say anything to her, rather accept her words as a memorialization because, even after a year, those are the only wounds still gaping open.

My stomach grumbles as I look at the foreign food options, and it is as it rumbles, that I notice the fact that I can hear it. My eyebrows dip down as I look up and glance to the right. The speakeasy, which had just been filled seconds prior, is now empty.

Dishes clatter against each other, moving in the haste of the former holders, and wind from the outside, summer air charges in. A large silence invades the small café as I go to turn my head back to Esmeralda, wondering if we've been made out and enemies are on our doorsteps.

And as I do that—

As I face the other way—

The body of a man I know very well comes soaring through the air, landing smack in the middle of our table. Aeris lets out a loud grunt as the dishes already placed on the table shatter underneath his body weight.

Esmeralda flings up as the force of the motion sends Aeris flying from one side of the table, directly across, and over the edge of the other.

"I deserved that," he groans as he crumples to the ground.

I go to stand, but his words have me at a pause.

I glance up to my right-hand, expecting to see her on guard with her guns drawn, but instead, all I get is a cheeky grin and a tipped head. She grabs the back of her chair, takes her seat again, clutches the water jug that had managed to avoid Aeris, and pours herself a small glass.

She uses a chunk of the remaining cup to sip while she goes back to looking at the menu.

And for some reason, I know she's communicating with me.

I take one glance at Aeris, who is still balled up on the floor, his head pouring blood, and then turn back to my menu. I pick it up and mull over his chosen words once more.

And then I know, as I gaze at the reflective menu, as I hear the cock-pin of a pistol exactly who cleared out this joint. I know exactly who stands behind me.

"Found ya," she whispers in my ear.

My blood hums in my veins.

My heart stops and restarts.

"Took you long enough," I mimic the grin, looking over my shoulder, and spotting the diamond ring I thought was lost under our eleven-year separation, "Little dove."

THE END.