Four years later

The music from the club pulsed through the office, and I dropped my head into my hands. There was a knock at the door, and I glared at it for half a beat before calling for whoever it was to come in.

Devyn popped her head in with a wicked grin on her face. "Hey there, boss lady."

"Shut up," I grumbled, rubbing at my temples.

Her tinkling laugh filtered through the room as she closed to door behind her. She leaned against it, crossing her arms before arching her pierced brow at me. "You doing okay?"

"Fine. I could just kill Dante. These records are a disaster."

"No wonder he wanted you to take over instead of me."

"We both know you wouldn't have wanted it anyway."

"True. Assistant Manager suits me just fine."

My eyes rolled back so far, I was surprised I couldn't see my brain. "Don't make me regret asking you to take that role." She grinned, an edge of wickedness to it. I eyed her, wariness creeping into my veins. "What did you want?"

"There's someone here to see you."

"Vincent knows where my office is."

She pouted. "Jules, do you know what day it is?"

"Thursday."

"What's the date?" I shrugged. She laughed under her breath before pulling her phone out and showing it to me.

My eyes about bugged out of their sockets.

"Shit," I spat, jumping up so fast my chair rolled back and smashed into the filing cabinet behind me. Stopping for just a second to glance in the mirror next to the door, I checked my reflection.

"You look great, but you might not want to keep him waiting."

"I love you," I told her, throwing my arms around her neck. "Do you have everything covered for the rest of the night?"

"I do," she said, laughing as she squeezed me back.

Grabbing my purse, I made a beeline for the doors leading out to the bar. When I burst through, the swinging door nearly clipping me as it swung shut again, I scanned the bar for Vincent.

He was leaning against the bar, forest eyes already fixed on me. A slow grin spread across his face, and I took the time to admire him. Under the flashing neons, he looked even more dangerous than he normally did. His leather jacket was pulled taught across his shoulders, and as I raked my gaze over him, I took note of the single red rose he was spinning between his fingers.

Anthony and Ember occupied themselves on the other side of the bar as I made my way over to my husband.

Man, that was still weird.

"Took you long enough, princess," he said, mirth dancing in his eyes as I moved within earshot.

"I'm sorry," I replied with a wince.

"I know you've had a lot on your plate with the handover of the club."

"Still –"

He shushed me, grabbing my hand as he towed me out from behind the bar. He pulled me into his arms before presenting me with the rose. A small smile pulled at my mouth as I accepted it. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Devyn's going to cover everything for the rest of the night."

He nodded before lacing our fingers together. With a gentle tug, he led me through the bar and out the front door. The late October air was crisp, and I took in a deep breath as it washed over me.

"You didn't wear a jacket today, did you?" Vincent asked, pausing as he turned us towards the heart of downtown.

"No. It was warmer when I left this afternoon."

He rolled his eyes but pulled me tighter against his side so I could soak up his warmth.

"I have a surprise for you," he said after we had been walking for a while. We stopped walking, and I glanced up to see that we were at Scotti's, one of our favorite restaurants.

"Dinner?" I asked.

"Well, yes," he chuckled before leading me in. "But there's more."

The host gave us a warm smile as he pulled out two menus as instructed us to follow him. Scotti's was a small Italian hole-in-the-wall, but it had some of the best food in all of Valarian. In the three years Vincent and I had been married, we had come here any chance we got. Each table offered enough privacy for us to be able to discuss anything we needed to. Legitimate business or otherwise.

From the look in Vincent's eyes, I knew whatever he had for me was going to fall into the otherwise category.

Once we were settled and our food was ordered, Vincent placed his hand palm up on the table. A subtle request, but one I indulged on instinct. His thumb ran along the back of my hand as I placed it in his, and that ghost of a smile I loved so much played at the edges of his lips.

"Well?" I prompted. He laughed, the sound sending a flash of heat through me even after all this time. He reached into his jacket with his free hand and pulled out small, but fat, envelope. He placed them in front of me, and then leaned back. His expression was expectant. "What is this?"

"Only one way to find out."

My brows pulled together as I picked it up. I recognized Vincent's handwriting across the front of the envelope, and my eyes widened at the name printed there.

To the attention of: Christopher Kenton

"What –"

"Happy anniversary."

With shaking fingers, I pulled out the stack of papers. It took me less than a breath to recognize the man in the photos. A man I hadn't laid eyes on in over a decade.

Peter Vaughn. My dad's partner. The man I was sure had killed him.

My eyes raised to Vincent's, and he nodded for me to continue. I flipped through the papers, and my heart beat a little faster with each page.

This information was damning.

Correspondence between Peter and the people who had been involved in the original murders. Then, more recent photographs in the past few years of Peter being spotted with everyone from Henry Kline – before his death – to a few of our other biggest rivals in the city.

"He's moved from homicide to narcotics."

"How?" was all I could manage as I continued looking over the information he had collected. My eyes raised to his, and for just a moment I caught sight of the ruthless killer that lurked under Vincent's skin.

"I have spent every spare second since the moment you told me what he did having him watched," Vincent admitted, that muscle in his jaw beginning to tick. "I knew you said that you didn't know how high up the corruption went, so I made sure to find out. From everything I've gathered, it's only him and one of his direct superiors. I have a file on him as well back at the warehouse. Kenton said to reach out to him if we ever needed his brand of help. I think it's time we called in that favor, don't you?"

Having a highly respected lawyer on our side had been a nice fail-safe throughout the last few years. But we had never asked Chris to stick his neck out for us, even though he insisted that he would do it if need be. He had helped me with so much of the legal work when it came to taking over the club. He had become an indispensable ally.

My lips parted on a harsh exhale. My hands started shaking and I had to blink back tears. Vincent nodded back to the information in my hands, and I took that as my cue to finish looking through it.

My breath stalled in my lungs.

I don't know how he had done it, but the short note in my hands was enough to make the tears start falling.

Take care of Gracen. Permanently.

The messy scrawl made my skin crawl. I had the kill order for my father in my hands. Or at least a copy of it. Raising my eyes, I met Vincent's again.

"Where did you find this?"

"Peter had it in a safe in his home office. I'm sure he was keeping it as insurance in case they ever wanted to try and turn on him. Smart, but stupid to keep it somewhere so obvious. Though, I'm sure he never expected anyone to come snooping looking for this."

"I love you," I breathed, clutching the papers like a lifeline.

"As I love you. I'd do anything for you, you know that."

"But this . . ." I couldn't believe he had done this. He'd had this in the works for years and had never uttered a word of it. None of them had.

"Was child's play. I wanted to make sure I had enough to bring them both down – the proper, legal way – before I gave it to you. I only went it and broke the safe a few days ago. Not like it's something he would've reported, but his supervisor was the first person he ran to. And that information is only the first half of your present."

That piqued my curiosity. "What's the other part?"

Vincent grinned, sharp as a blade. He leaned across the table to wipe my tears away with feather-light touches. "After dinner. It's not going anywhere."

I took a deep breath before nodding. I had just placed all of the papers back into the envelope when our food arrived. Anticipation thrummed in my veins as we ate. Vincent attempted to distract me with idle conversation, but it was hard to focus. What on else on earth could he possibly have done for me?

Before too long, we had finished our meal and were headed back to Tuxedo to grab the car. The silence that wrapped around us was comfortable, and I let out a small sigh. Threading my arm through Vincent's, I leaned against him as we walked. Valarian was in full swing around us, but I barely noticed. The man at my side, and the promise of something to top the news I had just gained was enough to make me giddy.

"I didn't get you anything," I mumbled as we crossed into the back lot of the club.

"I get you. That's enough."

"You're such a sap." He shrugged, opening my door for me before bowing low. My eyes rolled. "Ridiculous."

"Only for you, princess," he said, a mischievous light in his eye as he helped boost me into the seat.

* * * * *

"Mom and Dad are home!" Angelica yelled, hurting my eardrums when I walked into the warehouse.

"Would you knock that off?" I asked, scowling at her.

Her smile was nothing short of feline as she lounged on one of the couches. "Absolutely not. I like that it's caught on."

Fighting against the urge to rub my temples, I allowed Vincent to tow me toward the door to the basement. My brows raised, but my heart kicked itself into overdrive. He motioned for me to go down the steps ahead of him.

The breath I took was bracing. I had scarcely been down here since we killed Jack all those years ago. Vincent had never pushed it. There was rarely a need for me to be a part of what went on below the warehouse, but sometimes I still went down. Every time I ended up feeling sick for hours after. Something told me that today might be different.

When we made it to the small, cement block room, Vincent brushed past me to flick on the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I had suspected, but seeing it still made my breath catch.

Peter was chained to the chair in the middle of the room. His brown eyes squinted as the room was bathed in light. His black hair was slicked to his scalp from the sweat rolling down his face. His normally olive skin was washed out, looking like he hadn't seen the sun in months. His narrow chest was heaving, and he focused on Vincent for the briefest of seconds. Then, those cruel eyes slid to me.

"Juliette?" he croaked, relief slipping onto his features.

"Peter," I said, surprised by how steely my voice came out. My fists clenched at my sides, and I forced them to release. "It's been a long time."

"Jules, you've got to get me out of –"

Faster than I had time to process, Vincent punched him square in the nose. Peter's roar of pain echoed around the room, but it wouldn't escape these walls.

"I won't be getting you out of anything," I told him. The fear that crept into his eyes as they bounced back and forth between Vincent and I gave me a sick thrill.

"Have you met my husband?" I asked, crossing to the man in question. His forest eyes were shining as they took me in, and I had never felt more in control than I did in that moment. Vincent turned to the table full of tools he had leaned against. The gun he handed me was familiar. It was the one he had bought for me at the start of our relationship.

"Husband?"

"Mhmm," I cooed, switching off the safety on the gun before turning back to the man who had haunted my nightmares for longer than I cared to admit. "You see, a long time ago, you took something very important from me."

"I never –"

"Are you really going sit here and lie to my face?" I snarled. "After you threatened Mom and me so we'd stay quiet?"

"Your father was poking his nose where it didn't belong," he said.

With one sentence, he had sealed his fate.

A low laugh escaped me, and I could feel a kind of calm slipping over me. After all this time, I had him. The knowledge that I had his life in my hands was a heady kind of power. Even now, I often forgot how much pull I had in this city. Between the connections I had made on my own, and those I had inherited when I changed my last name, I wasn't the same scared little girl I was the last time I had encountered this man.

I was Juliette Monroe, and this life debt was mine.

for now

____________________________________________________________

You all have no idea how weird it feels to type that. To know that this story is at its conclusion. How are we feeling? I just feel like there's so much power in the last line, so I'm torn if I should continue all the way up until they give Chris the documents. But, I like where it is for now!

What are the next steps?

I have two beta readers who will be receiving the updated rough draft shortly. While they read through it, I'll be printing it off and literally going through it with a red pen. Once I have their notes and my own to go off of, I'll write it again. The HOPE is to have it completely ready to look into publishing by the first of the year.

What I can tell you for sure, is that the published version will have an epilogue, and some bonus chapters from Vincent's POV. So, the question, my dear readers, is: what scenes do you want to see from his side of things?

In the meantime, I hope you loved Juliette and Vincent's journey as much as I have. We haven't heard the last of the Valarian City crew.

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I love you all dearly, thank you for everything.

Erin