Ivan does deserve revenge. We lost two brothers that night, Jasha and Vadim. Maks lost an eye. He says he doesn’t care—admittedly, he looks pretty fucking boss with an eyepatch. But even so, it was a heavy price to pay.
My relief outweighs my irritation.
“Thank you,” I say to them again, this time without resentment.
“Do you want to show that to Lara?” Ivan says.
I close the box with a snap.
“I don’t think she’ll want to see it. But I’ll ask her.”
Ivan grabs the rest of the bags out of the car and closes the door.
“Did you even go to Nevada?” I ask him.
“No,” he says. “We need to, next week. Why don’t you and Lara come along? Adrik is probably old enough for a flight by now.”
I consider the possibility. I haven’t been to the states in a long time. I don’t think Lara ever has. She might enjoy the food, the shows—and certainly the museums.
“Why not?” I say. “We never did take a honeymoon.”
“Neither did we,” Sloane says. “It’s high time.”
I help Ivan carry the bags into the house, and then I climb the stairs to find Lara.
She’s laying on the ground with Adrik, tickling his nose with a lock of her hair. Adrik is giggling, trying to grab a whole handful of it.
She hops up when she sees me, coming over for a kiss.
I give her more than one. So many that I almost forget what I was going to ask her.
“What do you think about going on a trip?” I say at last.
“Sure!” she says. “I’d love to.”
I laugh. “Don’t you want to know where?”
She shakes her head, smiling up at me. I feel like I could drown in those eyes. They pull me in over and over again.
“No,” Lara says. “It doesn’t matter. I’d go anywhere with you.”
The End
Thank you so much for reading:
Colors of Crime Book 8: Ash
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The Sensual & Romantic Final Epilogue
Dom is taking Lara to New York to fulfill all her fantasies. Reconnect one last time with Dom and Lara, Ivan and Sloane, and Snow and Sasha in the final epilogue of the Colors of Crime series.
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Colors of Crime Book 5
After he catches beautiful assassin Sloane trying to poison him, Ivan takes her prisoner. He’ll stop at nothing to get her to reveal her secrets — whether it be through punishment or pleasure…
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Sapphire – Chapter 1
Byron Black – London
I knew I was in love with you. Was I an idiot for thinking you were in love with me too?
Jesu Nadal
Chief Superintendent Black drove his hired car up the long, private drive to the Home Secretary’s house. He glanced with pleasure at the beautiful woman occupying the seat next to his. He knew he would be one of the least-important people at the party that night, but he couldn’t imagine that anyone would have a more stunning date on their arm.
Though they had been together almost a year, she was still a mystery to him, this dazzling American girl who had dropped into his life. What was she thinking now, at this moment?
Lex didn’t seem nervous in the slightest, though she was about to walk into a mansion full of strangers, in a setting where she couldn’t possibly know all the social norms. She seemed perfectly at her ease, leaning her elbow across the frame of the open window, enjoying the evening breeze streaming inside, heedless of how it might disarrange the elegant ballerina bun atop her head.
He loved when she wore her hair up like that, showing her long, slender neck.
And where had she found that gown? Emerald green silk, one-shouldered, perfectly fit and cascading down her body, save for a slit up one thigh. She looked as regal as an empress.
He would usually have felt uncomfortable with something so attention-grabbing. After all, the higher echelons of London society were still conservative compared to what she was probably used to back home. But he had seen her at enough parties to know that she charmed everyone she met. He didn’t have to worry about her.
This evening would be a little different than usual. Black had been invited—by the commissioner himself—to a private party thrown by the Home Secretary in honor of his wife’s fiftieth birthday.
Black rarely hobnobbed with the British political elite. The commissioner had invited him because Black was considered a rising star in the London police. In line for promotion to commander within a few months, and maybe eventually to the commissioner position itself.
They liked using him as a poster-boy: the chav who had risen through the ranks with such speed and perfection, and such excellent absorption of the rules of the game, spoken and unspoken.
Because that, of course, was the part that was actually difficult. Not solving cases—he was very good at that. The hard part was learning the right vocabulary and the right methods of pronunciation, the right way to dress and to behave, the right people to trade favors with. That was how you got ahead.
Black hated the games he had to play. Though he never let it show, he resented them. The wealthy that had been born that way. The people who didn’t have to work to get to the same place to which he had to kick and claw and struggle for years.
Had Lex grown up rich or poor? It was so hard to tell. She didn’t like to talk about her family or her childhood. He hoped she would be more open with him once they were married.
Assuming she said yes.
He had the ring, already bought. He’d been carrying it around in his breast pocket for a month, looking for the right moment to bring it out.
Of course, there had been plenty of moments—after a particularly enthusiastic session in bed, during a walk through the falling leaves in Hyde Park, when he’d taken her to dinner at Le Pont de la Tour.
The real reason he hadn’t yet proposed was because he wasn’t sure of her answer. He thought that she loved him. But he could never be certain.
Black knew that most women would consider him a catch. He was 190 cm tall, broad shouldered, blond, handsome. A decorated police officer, who had solved several prestigious cases, including saving the hostages from the bombing of the NSC building, a feat that had made him the hero of the city for a time.