Saxon Malvagio is something fucking else.
Wild.
Dangerous.
Sinful.
And mine.
FIVE YEARS LATER
There’s something calming about the ocean. The sound it makes as it crashes against the shore, rushing up the sand, just to be pulled back in. I sit on the back deck and watch as Saxon plays with our son at the water’s edge. They run around, splashing each other and having the time of their lives. And I don’t think my heart has ever felt so full.
I have to admit, when Saxon mentioned wanting to move out to the little town we found in Rhode Island, I wasn’t immediately on board. My whole life was in the city. My business. The Familia. I had responsibilities and people counting on me.
It wasn’t until Khaos was born that my view changed.
Six pounds, five ounces. He was everything I never realized I needed. With Saxon’s black hair and her piercing blue eyes, the only things that boy got from me are my temper and the love I have for his mother. And as he started to grow up around the same life that has brought so much loss, I knew a change was necessary.
I didn’t have to give up everything. I’m still the don of the Cosa Nostra with Beni as my underboss. I just choose to run things from here while Roman rules New York City with the same merciless fist as I did as my Capo de Capi—with Nico and Cesari faithfully at his side.
Thanks to Scarlett keeping her word and signing the properties over to me, there’s still a city to run. She and Kylie moved to a small town in the Outer Banks where Kylie is working tirelessly on achieving her dream of the competing in the Olympics. Pictures of the inside of their home show they still keep pictures of Saxon, frozen in time but still very much loved.
The only big sacrifice I had to make was my company. It was the only thing I built from the ground up, the one part of my life that I did by myself, without the help of anyone else. While Elison was more than happy to take it over, and I knew I was leaving it in good hands, it was difficult to part with.
But it was more than worth it.
Saxon looks over at me, and her eyes lock with mine. A broad grin stretches across her face, looking happier than ever. And as she turns her attention back to our son, I can’t help but feel the same.
ONE THING THEY DON’T tell you about before you have kids is their attitude. At four years old, Khaos has gone through the baby stage, the terrible twos, and the threenager stage, and it feels like every year he gets bigger, so does his ability to verbally bitch-slap me.
Someone should have warned me that Saxon was going to give birth to a tiny dictator with a selfishness that rivals my own.
“Okay, little man,” I tell him as I finish putting on his favorite Batman pajamas. “Let’s see what we can do with that wild hair of yours.”
I run my fingers through it and let the moisture hold it in place. Usually, I’d just ruffle it around. He’s going to bed soon, anyway. But tonight, I decide on something different.
Using both my hands, I style it into a fauxhawk and chuckle at the result.
“There, now you look like a little badass.”
His eyes widen and I know I’ve fucked up when he gets up and jumps around his room. “Badass, badass, badass.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Khaos, what did I tell you about repeating Daddy?”
He stops and covers his mouth as he giggles.
Saxon comes in moments later, looking like an irresistible temptress. She’s wearing a red dress that Viola bought her last Christmas and a pair of black boots. Her tattoo peeks out the back of the dress and reminds me about everything she’s been through and how hard she fought to survive.
Goddamn, I’m a lucky man.
“Mommy!” Khaos shouts.
She keeps her legs pressed together and squats down so she’s at his level. “Look at you! Your hair looks so cute!”
“Daddy said I look like a badass!”
Snitch.
Saxon’s brows raise as she glances over at me. “Did he now?”
“I think you should just accept the fact that our son is going to have a very diverse vocabulary,” I tell her.
“Mm-hm.” She stands up and takes Khaos’s hand. “Come on, handsome. Auntie Vi is waiting for you downstairs.”
He squeals excitedly. “I love Auntie Vi!”
The three of us head downstairs where Viola is standing in the living room. The second Khaos sees Viola, he lets go of Saxon’s hand and runs full force toward her.
“Auntie Vi!” he screams.
She bends down so he can run straight into her arms. “Semen Demon!”
I snort while Saxon turns around and buries her face in my chest to hide her laughter.
“You can’t keep calling him that,” she tells Viola.
Viola cocks a brow at her. “Why not? It’s his nickname!”
Instead of fighting with her, Saxon rolls her eyes and walks over to our son. She runs her hand over his cheek and kisses his forehead.
“You be good for Auntie Vi, okay?” Then she turns her attention to Viola. “And no horror movies this time.”
Viola bounces Khaos on her hip. “How else is he going to live up to his parents?”
“No, Viola,” Saxon tells her.
She groans but agrees. “Lame.”
With my hand on Saxon’s lower back, we head out for a date night that we don’t get nearly often enough.
WHEN WE FIRST CAME to this strip, during the impromptu road trip to make Saxon feel human again, I never thought that it would eventually be my home, but I don’t mind it. It has a cozy kind of feel to it that I never had while growing up in New York.
The two of us walk hand in hand, just enjoying the cool summer air after a few drinks. It’s a little busier than it is in the off season. While this town isn’t exactly a tourist attraction, some people still manage to find it. But Saxon rests her head against my arm and hums happily anyway.
Or at least until she jolts forward and spins around on her heels.
“Hey, pretty thing,” a drunken man slurs. “How much?”
“Excuse me?” we both say in unison.
He looks up at me and his nostrils flare as he focuses on Saxon. “I’m sure your sugar daddy pays you well for your time, but I just want one night. How much?”
Before Saxon can answer, I move her so she’s behind me and place myself in between them. “My wife is not for hire, so I suggest you make yourself scarce before I show you what happens to a man who touches a woman that isn’t his.”
Too drunk to realize the severity of my threat, he rolls his eyes and turns around, stumbling away like my words held no weight. Once he’s a safe distance away, I pull Saxon close and put my hands on her ass—covering his touch with my own.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
She chuckles. “Yes, caveman.”
I bend down and press my lips to hers, only for her to pull away after a few seconds.
“Do you ever miss it?” she questions. “The adrenaline of it all? The thrill?”
It’s a valid question. While I’ve had to get my hands dirty every now and then, I’ve taken more of a back seat since achieving my revenge. But there’s always a little bit of an itch inside of me that craves it.