I close my eyes again, smiling to myself as I try to think of a future that’s open-ended and free from the past. But something stirs in me, and I gasp when I look into Brakos’s eyes, feel my blood move through my veins like it’s a being with its own intelligence, its own fate, its own destiny.
Where will we be in thirty years, I wonder as Brakos caresses my cheek and mutters something about how I need to eat and then complains about the lack of Beluga caviar in my dead grandmother’s attic.
But as we slowly dress and make our way down to the living room where I played as a child, my husband’s hand in mine, his ring on my finger, his seed in my womb, I remind myself that it doesn’t matter where we’ll be thirty years in the future just like it doesn’t matter where we were thirty or forty or a hundred years in the past.
The only time that matters is now.
The only place that matters is here.
Because in this place called here and now I’ve found my always, found my forever, chosen my destiny.
∞
EPILOGUE
THIRTY YEARS LATER
AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN THE GREEK MEDITERRANEAN
BELLANCA
“I get to choose first this time!” squeals Brock, our five-year-old grandson who’s the spitting image of Brakos. “She chose first last time!”
“I am the only one who chooses,” comes Brakos’s deep voice as he storms out of his study and snatches the bag of Turkish Delights from Benis, our four-year-old grand-daughter, who just stares wide-eyed at her mountain of a Grandpa.
Without even flinching Brakos walks to the open window and empties the contents of the bag into the wild blue Mediterranean sea that laps up against the old stone walls of this thirteenth-century monastery that we converted to . . .
To our headquarters.
Yes, headquarters.
Headquarters for a sprawling underground mafia operation that spans America, Europe, and is slowly making headway into Australia and Asia, if our talks with the Koreans go well.
And if our talks with the Koreans don’t go well?
There’s always the dark blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea to swallow the bodies, gulp down the evidence, clear the obstacles to expanding the empire that Brakos and I have built over thirty years . . .
Built together.
Built with blood.
I settle into my leather armchair and cross my legs as I watch our grandchildren howl and wail in protest at being deprived of all the candy.
I narrow my eyes and sigh as I watch my Greek god of a husband finally relent and sweep up his grandkids in his strong arms, whisking them towards the shining silver fridge built into the stone wall at the far end of the room.
“Beluga caviar,” I hear him saying to them as they wrinkle their little noses up. “That is the only thing you are allowed to eat when in my palace. Say it. Beluga caviar. Beluga—”
The kids start howling again. But I don’t intervene. I’ve raised four boys and nine girls already, and we run our household like we run everything. Hard. Tight. Fair but firm, like it’s in our blood . . .
I sigh again as I close my eyes and touch my round belly Yes, thirteen kids in thirty years.
And there’s a chance we aren’t done yet.
Because although Brakos doesn’t know it yet, I think I might be pregnant again.
Which is strange, since I coulda sworn I was past child-bearing years . . .
“Gods do not eat Turkish Delight,” Brakos is saying to the kids as I focus in on whatever he’s trying to teach them. “They eat Beluga Caviar.”
And as I watch in amused silence, I see what I’ve seen with thirteen kids before these two:
Them looking up at Brakos and falling into line, the change happening with a strange suddenness, like something snapped into place, like they suddenly understood who they were, and that was that.
It happened with all the kids fast—maybe because at that age your brain hasn’t developed to the point where you second-guess your own body, your own instinct, your own blood.
It took me a while to get there, I remind myself as I reach for my tablet and flip through my encrypted messages, check on my shell companies, make sure the Swiss bank accounts are getting the deposits we’re due . . .
Yes, it took me a while to get there, but I’m here now.
Here in that place where it feels like this.
Like always.
Like forever.
Like blood.
Like destiny.
Our destiny.
∞
FROM THE AUTHOR
A bit twistier than the last one? Maybe a touch darker? As much fun? As much . . . me?
That last bit (me) is what I promise you'll get in every book. Hopefully that's enough for you guys to keep reading . . . ;)
So what's next?
More Blood and Destiny.
Yes, clearly I'm already thinking about the next book: VAMPIRE'S CURVY VALENTINE. Hopefully you are too!
Here's some other stuff that you mighta missed:
Taken on Thanksgiving
Captive for Christmas
Night Before New Years
Summoned by the CEO
THE CURVY FOR HIM SERIES
The Teacher and the Trainer
The Librarian and the Cop
The Lawyer and the Cowboy
The Princess and the Pirate
The CEO and the Soldier
The Astronaut and the Alien
The Quilter and the Quarterback
The Botanist and the Biker
The Psychic and the Senator
And 23 full-length novels in these series: CURVES FOR SHEIKHS and CURVES FOR SHIFTERS!
Also, please do join my private list to get five never-been-published forbidden epilogues from my SHEIKHS series.
Love,
Anna.
mail@annabellewinters.com
PS: For my international readers:
Annabelle in UK
Annabelle in CA
Annabelle in AU
∞
BY ANNABELLE WINTERS
THE CURVES FOR SHEIKHS SERIES (USA)
Curves for the Sheikh
Flames for the Sheikh
Hostage for the Sheikh
Single for the Sheikh
Stockings for the Sheikh
Untouched for the Sheikh
Surrogate for the Sheikh
Stars for the Sheikh
Shelter for the Sheikh
Shared for the Sheikh
Privilege for the Sheikh
Ransomed for the Sheikh
Uncorked for the Sheikh
Haunted for the Sheikh
Grateful for the Sheikh
Mistletoe for the Sheikh
Fake for the Sheikh
THE CURVES FOR SHIFTERS SERIES (USA)
Curves for the Dragon
Born for the Bear
Witch for the Wolf
Tamed for the Lion
Taken for the Tiger
THE CURVY FOR HIM SERIES (USA)
The Teacher and the Trainer
The Librarian and the Cop
The Lawyer and the Cowboy
The Princess and the Pirate
The CEO and the Soldier
The Astronaut and the Alien
The Quilter and the Quarterback
The Botanist and the Biker
The Psychic and the Senator
THE CURVY FOR THE HOLIDAYS SERIES (USA)
Taken on Thanksgiving
Captive for Christmas
Night Before New Years
THE CURVY FOR KEEPS SERIES (USA)
Bargain for the Boss
Given to the Groom
THE CURVES FOR SHEIKHS SERIES (UK)
Curves for the Sheikh (UK)
Flames fo
r the Sheikh (UK)
Hostage for the Sheikh (UK)
Single for the Sheikh (UK)
Stockings for the Sheikh (UK)
Untouched for the Sheikh (UK)
Surrogate for the Sheikh (UK)
Stars for the Sheikh (UK)
Shelter for the Sheikh (UK)
Shared for the Sheikh (UK)
Privilege for the Sheikh (UK)
Ransomed for the Sheikh (UK)
Uncorked for the Sheikh (UK)
Haunted for the Sheikh (UK)
Grateful for the Sheikh (UK)
Mistletoe for the Sheikh (UK)
Fake for the Sheikh (UK)
THE CURVES FOR SHIFTERS SERIES (UK)
Curves for the Dragon (UK)
Born for the Bear (UK)
Witch for the Wolf (UK)
Tamed for the Lion (UK)
Taken for the Tiger (UK)
THE CURVY FOR HIM SERIES (UK)
The Teacher and the Trainer (UK)
The Librarian and the Cop (UK)
The Lawyer and the Cowboy (UK)
The Princess and the Pirate (UK)
The CEO and the Soldier (UK)
The Astronaut and the Alien (UK)
The Quilter and the Quarterback (UK)
The Botanist and the Biker (UK)
The Psychic and the Senator (UK)
THE CURVY FOR THE HOLIDAYS SERIES (UK)
Taken on Thanksgiving
Captive for Christmas
Night Before New Years
THE CURVY FOR KEEPS SERIES (UK)
Bargain for the Boss
Given to the Groom
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE (USA)
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE (UK)
ANNA'S WEBSITE
ANNA'S FACEBOOK
ANNA'S GOODREADS
ANNA'S BOOKBUB
ANNA'S NEW RELEASE LIST