* * TWO MONTHS LATER * *

 

 

MONTE CARLO.

The city where I’d fallen in love, walked away from love, and been arrested.

The city where my life had truly begun again all thanks to Elder Prest, my fiancé, the love of my life, the man I was tying myself to in sickness and in health until death did us part.

Elder held my hand as we stared at each other. His black eyes on my green hazel.

We’d arrived a few days ago and moved into the stunning house with the Asian accents and Mediterranean relaxation, perched on a hill overlooking the ocean Elder loved so much.

Selix had helped us arrange a marriage license and we’d gone shopping the day before for a simple suit for Elder and a basic white sundress for me.

Elder had sent invites to his family with no expectation of their acceptance, but for once, it didn’t gnaw at him or steal any of his happiness. He’d come to terms with what he’d lost but also with what he’d gained.

If I dared break eye contact and look to the side where our witnesses stood, I’d see Selix as Elder’s best man and Louise, a sweet maid from the Phantom, as my maid of honour.

Two witnesses to sign the marriage certificate once we said the magic words.

That was all we wanted.

Just us.

The under-decorated magistrate office held a flag of Monaco and some official looking banners. No flowers. No garlands.

It didn’t matter.

It could’ve been the most beautiful place on earth and I wouldn’t have noticed.

All I cared about was him.

My husband to be.

Elder squeezed my fingers as the justice of the peace asked, “And do you, Elder Miki Prest, take Tasmin Pimlico Blythe as your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish, protect, and worship for as long as you both shall live?”

Goosebumps ghosted over my arms as Elder smiled. “I do.” Twisting a little, he held out his hand to Selix who placed a ring I’d never seen onto his awaiting palm. Splaying my fingers of my left hand, he slipped it onto my digit along with a simple gold wedding band. My wedding and engagement rings given in one go.

Tears immediately glassed the sparkling diamonds, conjuring rainbows in my vision. The brilliant cut was simple, the diamond big and beyond flawless. It sat on my finger as if it had always belonged.

Elder leaned in, whispering, “I had Jethro Hawk give up another one of his diamonds. I think they suit you.” He ran his thumb over my penny bracelet as he cleared his throat and looked once more to the gentleman marrying us.

The justice of the peace turned to me, asking me the same slightly amended question. “And do you, Tasmin Pimlico Blythe, take Elder Miki Prest as your lawfully wedded husband? To adore, cherish, and love as long as you both shall live?”

I nodded, my heart dressed up in pretty flowers and nodding with all its ventricular might. “I do.”

Louise bent forward, passing me a ring I’d only just had commissioned in Monte Carlo. I’d had to judge Elder’s finger size from watching him sketch yacht drawings the week before. Once armed with measurements, I sent Selix on yet another errand to tell the jeweller who I’d bought from online to make the correct size.

The thick gold glinted as I pushed it onto his finger and read the engraved inscription aloud. “You did more than love me. You saved me.”

Elder clutched my hand so tight it hurt.

The justice of the peace closed his folder, clasping it in front of him. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I expected Elder to peck me sweetly—to avoid the compulsion of his needs. We couldn’t jump into bed after this. We had another appointment to attend to.

Just as important.

Just as vital.

However, he launched himself at me, scooping me up and kissing me fierce.

Applause came from Selix and Louise as I kissed my husband back, just as fierce, just as violent for the very first time.

* * * * *

“Are you ready?”

I clutched Elder’s hand as we climbed from the black Town Car and made our way to the hotel where we’d agreed to meet.

“Not at all.” I laughed, doing my best to hide my nerves.

We’d just got married.

The timeline for a baby would normally be another few years, not a few minutes.

It’d been two months since we’d messaged Tess and Q about saving a life, and in that time, I’d flip-flopped between utmost elation and absolute terror. The responsibility of this decision had woken me up in the night in a full-blown panic attack only for Elder to calm me down and give me a chance to pull out only to induce another panic attack at the thought of not having what we’d already become so attached to.

Poor Spot didn’t understand why my emotions leapt from one extreme to the other. Only Elder knew because he felt the same way. We’d spent many a night talking in the dark, wondering if we were doing the right thing, discussing every outcome, testing every scenario.

But all it came down to was the love we had for each other. The blessed situation we were in and the family we were desperate to create.

Elder gathered me close, wrapping his arm around me. His gold wedding band winked in the bright sunshine, binding him to me for eternity just like the flawless diamond on my finger bound me to him.

We can do this.

We are doing this.

“I can always keep the engine running if the brat’s ugly and you change your mind.” Selix nudged Elder with his shoulder, taking an extremely heavy situation and turning it light.

“Ha ha,” Elder said dryly.

All of us still wore our wedding clothes—more dressed than we’d been in months while living in Fiji and other Pacific islands.

I’d watched Selix whenever we’d discuss the soon-to-arrive stowaway. His face had shut down at any mention of children, hinting that the pain he carried was in some way related.

I hadn’t enough courage yet or enough nosiness to ask him outright what’d happened but I hoped by saving one child’s life, it would somehow save him in return.

This adoption might have my and Elder’s name’s on the document, but the child would earn so much more than just us. They’d step into an already tight-knit, wonderful family with captains for uncles and skippers for playmates.

Entering the hotel lobby, we followed the directions Tess had sent in her email and took the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor.

Selix stayed behind us, giving us silent support but letting us bear the brunt of this life-changing decision.

Finding the right room number, Elder took a deep breath, gathered me close, then knocked.

Footsteps sounded inside before the handle unlocked and the door swung open.

“Pim. Elder. How wonderful to see you again.” Tess smiled, opening her arms for me to step into her embrace.

I hadn’t seen her since walking away after the bloodbath with the Chinmoku, but it felt as if it was only yesterday.

Giving Elder a quick glance, I traded his arms for hers, still shaken and amazed, unable to believe I’d become a wife and soon-to-be a mother all in one day. “Hello, Tess.”

“I’m so glad you made it.” She kissed me on both cheeks before stepping aside. “Please, come in.”

Elder accepted her welcome, looking past her into the room where Q appeared with his hands in his pockets. “Bonjour.”

“Hello.” Elder nodded in return.

We hadn’t told them we’d got married today. Not because we didn’t want them at our wedding, but because we’d wanted one last thing just for the two of us.

We were parents now. But our marriage was ours.

“Come,” Tess said, moving toward Q and holding out her hand for a tiny silhouette hiding behind him. “Let me introduce you to Aria.”

My heart wrapped itself in wire, bleeding with a mixture of fear and elation as a little girl stepped out from Q’s legs and watched us warily. She didn’t speak, but Tess had warned us of that.

This little girl had been saved from a trafficking house that held auctions for pregnant women to sadistic creeps. The women not sold in time had their babies in overcrowded bedrooms with other pregnant women, doing their best to shelter and keep their infant’s minds from twisting with evil from their environment.

Q had dismantled the organisation and managed to rehome most of the children and their mother’s—either together or separate, depending on the mother’s wish. Aria was the hardest one because she had yet to talk. Her mother had been killed in front of her, and families wanted a bubbly happy child and couldn’t understand the psychological depth of what muteness could offer as protection.

But I did.

Elder did.

We were prepared to either live with a silent child or nurture her until one day, just like me, she trusted her voice, herself, her surroundings, to give up that safety net and live.

“Hello, Aria.” I ducked to her level, studying her white blond hair and pink cheeks. Her ice blue eyes seemed eerily so much older than her four-year-old body. Too skinny for her age and preferring oversize boy clothes to nice fitting dresses, she was an enigma I couldn’t wait to get to know.

Elder came to join me, balancing on his haunches with his fingertips digging into the carpet for balance. “Hello, little one.”

Aria shied backward, eyeing us with suspicion.

We didn’t take it personally.

Tess had done a good job preparing us for the initial period, and we’d checked into the same hotel for the next few days to get to know Aria slowly, so she didn’t feel like yet another world had been snatched from her.

I’d like to say she leapt into our arms and overcame her fear that afternoon.

I’d like to say the next breakfast, when we all met in our suite for room service, she understood how much we wanted to care for her and no longer stayed too far away to be hugged.

I’d like to say our forage into parenthood was as easy as saying the binding words in our marriage ceremony.

But it wasn’t.

She made us work.

She made us try.

She made us realise we already loved her more than words could describe.

And that was what made it so much more precious when on the second to last day, while Elder and I sat on the couch in Tess and Q’s suite sharing a cocktail and discussing Elder’s business, that Aria finally came toward me on her own accord.

She abandoned the Legos blocks we’d bought her and willingly came closer. Her eyes latched onto my throat as I waved but didn’t speak. She cocked her head as if confused why my lips didn’t move.

I knew what it was like to be so focused on sound. And I knew what it was like to be comfortable with silence. Now, I recalled what it was like to prefer muteness because it was the only power I had left, and for the first time in a very long time, I pilfered the hotel stationery and turned to writing instead of voice.

I motioned her closer.

Inching toward the chair where I sat, she didn’t take her eyes off the paper as I drew a circle with a stick-man, stick-woman, and stick-girl all in the circle.

She traced the picture with her tiny finger as I slowly drew more stick-men on the outside, men with pitchforks and badly drawn guns. Things that no four-year-old should recognise but she did.

Shying back, she shook her head, staring at me accusingly.

I held up my hand, asking her to come closer again as I drew more and more lines around the circle protecting the stick family from the bad men outside, then pointed at Elder and myself and then her.

It took a few seconds, her face scrunched up until it smoothed out in understanding.

She might not be ready to write to No One, but she could understand drawings (no matter how bad) and she understood my message.

That we would protect her.

That we were hers.

That all she had to do was trust us and we would never, ever break that trust again.