by Mason, V. F.
Epilogue
If love is a myth… then you’re mine.
Callum
The birds are chirping loudly as I slowly walk to the cemetery with the bouquet of white orchids in my hand. The sun is shining brightly, casting a wonderful gleam on the land and allowing the trees and flowers to bloom with life despite their location.
My leather boots thump loudly against the concrete, and several birds pecking at bread spread on the grass for them ruffle their feathers and hop around.
The light summer breeze rolls over me, cooling my heated skin that detests the clothes on it.
But despite all the beauty around me, my heart stays numb as I continue my way to the gray headstone surrounded by orchids and lilies with a picture of a beautiful woman gazing at everyone who visits. Even the cold of the stone is warmed by her presence.
My heart beats wildly in the chest and my palms sweat, because it’s the first time I’ve visited her. I couldn’t find the courage to do it earlier, the pain living inside me too strong to withstand it and not destroy something in its wake.
Reaching the stone, I notice Darius standing in front of it, resting his hands on his cane while tears cascade down his face. “My beautiful princess,” he whispers, exhaling heavily, but then he tenses when he sees me. “Callum,” he mutters with an odd tone. It’s a mix of wonder and dread at the same time.
I haven’t seen my grandfather much either in the last two years, not since….
No, I can’t go back to that day. The memories and the agony are too fresh in my mind, too raw to ever revisit it.
Giselle in my arms with blood coating her dress, and then….
Shaking my head, I tighten my hold on the bouquet and greet him, “Darius.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” In the past two years, I’ve gotten thousands of messages from him wanting to either visit the cemetery or see each other. He wanted to build a bridge with us, give us a chance.
All his messages stayed unanswered.
I don’t harbor much hatred toward the man anymore. God knows life punished him on its own. But how can you build a relationship when so much has happened through the years? The pain, the memories, Giselle.
Fisting my hand, I will all my self-control to help me survive this encounter and not run away like a coward.
She deserves better from my first visit.
“It was time,” I reply, shaking a little when standing so close to the headstone… in a way hating it all with a helpless rage inside.
Because nothing will ever bring her back. She lives only in my memories with the familiar orchid scent surrounding her, and now this place.
Darius must read my turmoil, because he nods, and then says, “I’m going to the church.” He waits and then adds, “It’s good to see you, son.”
He walks past me, and some unfamiliar power lifts my hand in time to circle his elbow, stopping him. I hear him catching his breath, but he stays unmoving, waiting for my next action.
Without thinking on it too much, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug my grandfather for the first time in twenty-seven years.
And oddly enough, he smells just like that day at the hospital, or all the other days he came to visit me and Mom.
Slowly, his hand rests on my back, and he pats it, sobbing. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and I believe him, accepting my fate as my destiny that’s happened.
We both lost and loved her.
Don’t we owe it to her to try to reconnect at least on some level?
“I know,” I say, hugging him one last time before stepping back, and he takes out a tissue from his front jacket pocket, wiping away the tears. “Thank you, Callum.” He scans me from head to toe one last time before going toward the church.
Leaving me alone with her.
I come closer to the stone, kneeling in front of it and touching the hot granite. “You deserve the best.” It’s so hard to address her after all this time. I have to force each word out of my throat, “I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner. It’s strange, isn’t it?” I ask, placing orchids on the stone. “We probably have thousands of memories, but the most prominent was always the scent of flowers surrounding you.” I glance around and thumb the lily petals by my knees. “The same scent is present here.” Closing my eyes, I allow myself to feel the wave of memories crashing into me, showing all the beautiful images still present in my mind despite all the odds.
Memories that bring me pain… but also joy. For the short amount of time she existed in my life, she loved me, and isn’t that the greatest gift of all?
The wind blows against my face harder, almost caressing my cheek. “I will always love you… Mom.”
Delicate hands wrap around my waist when she presses her cheek to my shoulder, and warmth fills me at her presence.
My wild orchid.
Lacing my fingers with hers, I raise them up to give them a soft kiss.
“Are you okay?” she asks, pressing closer as if she’s trying to pour her strength into me.
My protective, fearless woman.
After Giselle passed out in my arms, I roared with fear from not feeling her heartbeat. The paramedics brought her back, but the road to the hospital was hectic. Her vitals were low, and she had internal bleeding.
They rushed her into surgery and worked on her for twelve hours.
The twelve worst hours of my life. During all that time, Santiago and Arson were with me, staying silent but giving me their support.
Sociopath and Luke showed up too, all of them watching me broodily as I paced back and forth.
Finally, the doctor emerged and told me they lost her a couple times because it hit some internal artery, which resulted in bleeding. The recovery wouldn’t be easy, but she had every chance of surviving.
I haven’t left her side since.
Martina got treated for her injury and serves a life sentence without the option of parole. The psychotic woman who killed my mother, my little sister and then almost took my wife away, whenever I remember that, such powerful rage fills me it’s hard to breathe.
Alfred Walker passed away of a heart attack several weeks later, not handling all the stress and scandals surrounding the Walker name. He divided the fortune in his will equally between Lucy, Giselle and me. He knew the truth about Giselle all along, but for some reason decided to raise her. According to his lawyer, he changed the will once he found out about my true identity.
Surprised the fuck out of both of us. I wanted to destroy it all, because it was the reason Martina killed my mother and fucked up our lives.
But so many people worked in the company and at the household… so Lucy moved into the mansion with Kevin, while we hired a C.E.O. to take care of the company. Marvin lost his campaign, moved to some small town, and remarried.
As far as relationships went… we wanted nothing to do with them, and they shared our sentiments.
Giselle rubs my palm, bringing me back to the moment with her, and my anger is gone, replaced by contentment.
“Yes, I am.” I whisper, and glance over my shoulder, meeting her luminous sapphire eyes. “I love you, Giselle MacRae.”
She kisses my shoulder and sighs, hugging me closer. “I love you too, Callum.” And that’s when I feel a light kick in my back, barely noticeable, but because I’m so attuned to my woman’s body, I detect it.
“Damon is restless.”
Giselle laughs, before groaning. “Yes, he has been playing football inside me for a few minutes now.” I unlock our hands and bring her around in front of me, her six-months-pregnant belly separating us.
Giselle presents the image of utter serenity as her long, white summer dress emphasizes her stomach.
Let the whole world see that she belongs to me, and we created a life together, the biggest miracle of all.
We got married a year and half after the incident, alone on the island without any witness but the priest.
She got pregnant on the island and sobbed in her hand
s, showing me the stick, afraid of my reaction.
Bringing a little human into this life terrified me. Only because I hoped I’d always be able to protect him from all the monsters lurking in the shadows who are ready to strike at innocent souls.
Love though has the tendency to wash away even the strongest of fears.
Placing my hand on her stomach, I feel a light kick and smile. Our unborn son doesn’t want to miss out on this moment either.
Giselle’s lips wobble a little when she turns around and addresses the stone. “Hi, Mommy.” I pull her back against my front, rocking her in my arms as we bask in the moment, finally finding the semblance of peace.
I’ll never stop killing those who in my mind deserve it, torturing them in the vilest of ways, getting off on their cries of pain, or erasing the darkness present in me. The monster who resides in my soul waiting for the moment to strike and feed his cravings is forever a part of me.
That darkness is one of my best friends, and I embrace it. And what a gift it is to have my woman who accepts it, even if she hardly understands it, and yet she stays with me despite those flaws.
Here in the cemetery with my mom beneath us, my grandfather nearby, and my entire world in my arms, the boy from my childhood finds something he always longed for.
Family.
The End
Click here for a FREE copy of my dark romance- His Broken Princess.
Turn the page to read an excerpt from Lachlan’s Protégé.
Coming Soon- Arson’s Captive
Coming this Fall- Four Dark Horsemen Series
Lachlan’s Protégé
Valencia
My eyes snap open. I look straight ahead and take a deep breath, then step into a pose. I’m illuminated by the moonlight shining brightly into the room from the glass-like ceiling above me. This silent space is filled with a mysterious atmosphere, creating an almost-perfect setting for a romantic evening.
The familiar first notes of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake echo through the room, and I assume the position, rising on my toes and swaying from side to side while slowly moving to the corner. I hop on my toes again, owning the stage as if nothing matters, blocking the outside world away.
To each dramatic note, I perform with my hands and facial expressions, giving away all the hopelessness of the swan, the beautiful young woman Odette, who’s been captured by the dark sorcerer and can’t be reunited with her lover.
The pain and heartache fuel her desire to fight against him, so she feeds on them even if they threaten to destroy her.
I swirl and swirl, rising up and down, up and down, and then a cry of pain slips past my lips as my feet land on glass. I halt my movements, barely breathing from the glass digging into my skin.
I glance down to see my white pointe shoes slowly coating in blood from all the scattered glass covering the floor; if one is careful enough to avoid it, he is a master.
My feet agonizingly throb. I can barely stand on them. My rasping breaths help me to concentrate on something other than the pain.
I’ve been doing nothing but dancing for the last hour. I’ve never performed for this long without a break in my life.
The sound of the lighter flicking fills the space as he lights up his cigarette, takes a deep breath, and exhales it in my direction while resting comfortably on the chair right in front of me. “Ah, Valencia. You know the rules. Never stop.” His deep, dangerous voice raises goose bumps on my skin, reminding me once again that the monster never sleeps.
He just feeds on my misery.
He tugs on the rope wrapped tightly around my waist and I stumble forward. I can’t help the groan of pain when he directs me onto the big pile of glass. The air freezes in my lungs while I pray for the hurt to pass so I can continue.
But I can’t.
Instead, fear unlike anything before spreads through me. Injuries like this may ruin a dancer’s career forever, and if I don’t have dancing, I won’t have anything in this life.
But he knows that.
Another tug. This time, I can’t keep up. I land on my knees, biting my lip hard so I won’t groan when the bare skin on my palms and knees land on the glass.
“Get up,” he orders, but I don’t.
He can dish any punishment he wants. God knows the cuts and throbbing skin are an indication of that. But I won’t let him taint the one thing in my life that I love the most.
He’s already taken everything else; he doesn’t get to have ballet too.
He exhales heavily at my disobedience and rises, straightening his perfectly ironed three-piece suit, then walks to me as his expensive Italian leather shoes make an unmistakable sound against the floor.
With each step he takes, my heartbeat speeds up faster and faster to the point of feeling it in my throat. He places the metal head of his cane under my chin and lifts it up.
I meet his stare head on. I hate everything about this man.
Or at least I hope it’s hate.
“So that’s your choice?” he asks as his lazy gaze roams over me, but I say nothing.
I won’t give him the last part of me that matters.
Even if it seals my death tonight.
Click here for Lachlan’s Protégé.
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank God and my family for allowing me to write and make this dream possible. The support means so much to me, and I understand that sometimes it drives you crazy, especially when I try to meet my deadlines and seem unavailable to you. But I love you guys and appreciate everything you do for me.
One winter night prologue scene from this book popped in my head and I had to write it. Once I was done with it, I put it aside because I had plans to work on another book(Arson’s). But Callum wanted all the attention so he got his book first and I understood why his story needed to be told first. I hope you enjoyed reading it.
Huge thank you to Hot Tree Editing team for helping me with my editing process. Especially Becky, Donna, Peggy, Kayla and Mandy. Plus beta readers and final eyes, who gave me valuable feedback and made sure I covered any plot holes I had.
Thank you to Sommer Stein, Wander Aguiar and Alex for the fabulous cover.
Heather Roberts, thank you for being with me during this release every step of the way.
L.Woods PR thank you for hosting my cover reveal and release blitz.
Thank you to my reader group, ladies you are amazing!
Thank you to all the bloggers for spreading the word about Callum’s Hell and leaving reviews.
And finally to all the readers who took a chance on this journey of love between Callum and Giselle. Thank you to each one of you.
Also by V. F. Mason
Dark Romance
Sociopath’s Obsession
Sociopath’s Revenge
Psychopath’s Prey
Lachlan’s Protégé
Micaden’s Madness
Mafia Romance
Pakhan’s Rose
Pakhan’s Salvation
Sovietnik’s Fury
Brigadier’s Game
Kaznachei’s Pain
Coming Soon
Arson’s Captive
Four Dark Horsemen Series
Contact
Website: http://vfmason.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bTq66n
Reader group : http://bit.ly/2iXZd0l
