Broken Reign: Enemies-To-Lovers Romance

“I don’t know what you are going on about, but if you will excuse me—”

He’s about to step away when the monitors set up around the space turn on, all the evidence of his treachery and bribery playing for everyone to see. Then pandemonium erupts. Police enter the building and surround him. He tries to step back, but there is no place to go.

His head snaps to me. “You ungrateful little bitch. Everything you have is because of me.”

“No, everything I have is despite you. You will die in prison when I’m done with you.”

He lunges for me, but an officer storms him, pinning him against the wall.

“You are under arrest for the murder of Tobias Baros, Matthew and Stacey Gilbert—” One of the officers starts to run down the list of everyone in Al’s that day.

And another one steps up with handcuffs in his hand. “Please come with us,” he orders.

“I will have your badge.” I watch as Fitzpatrick turns to another officer. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

No one listens, and as he’s pulled back, his screams become more desperate and more pleading.

When the police officers shuffle him away, familiar arms wrap around my stomach. The smell of his cologne infiltrates my senses.

“Time to go.” His words tickle my neck.

“Where?” I ask.

“Anywhere. As long as I’m with you.”

56

Skye

The first place we go is home. Not to Tobias’s house but to Reddington. To my father’s grave. A few days have passed since the gala and since Fitzpatrick was arrested, and the world knows what he did to rise so high. His political aspirations are now dead.

He’s going to jail for a very long time.

Hand in hand, we’re here to say our goodbyes. To tell my father how we did right by him, how he will be proud.

Standing in front of my father’s grave, Tobias drops my hand and steps up. He speaks for a while, but I don’t hear the words. All I hear is his promise to always take care of me.

From where I’m standing, I see the way he looks up at the sky as he talks, and seeing that move makes my heart fill with so much love. He’s found peace in the sky, and I hope I can give him the same.

When he’s done, he moves closer to me, places a kiss on my lips, and then steps away to give me my space.

It’s my time now. But I’m not ready to say goodbye. My throat burns from the sobs lodged inside me. A raw, primitive grief works its way through me as my teeth chatter. Closing my eyes, I will myself to remember the good times, and I do. They come back to me with laughter and smiles, and most of all, love.

I can see him grin at me when I would get an answer right. His eyes when he was proud. I can smell the jam in the air when he made the snack that my mom used to make for me when I was sad.

Tears roll down my cheeks. Swiping them away, I take a deep breath, and then I kiss my finger and place it on the tombstone. “I have so much to tell you. I hope you aren’t angry, but I stole your files.” I can’t help but laugh because I know him, and he wouldn’t be mad. He would tell me how proud he was of me. How smart I was to put everything together. “I figured it out. Tobias and I got them. We got them. I just want you to know I don’t blame you. I never did. I know you felt it was your fault, but it wasn’t. It was never your fault. Thank you for taking me in. I love you for giving me the love I needed, always.”

After we say our goodbyes, we walk over to another set of graves. The ones I always visit because it brings me peace to be here.

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” I whisper to the tombstones. More tears flow down my cheeks as I kneel to touch the cold surface. “I want you to meet someone very important to me. Mom, Dad, this is Tobias. He was with me that day. The day you left, he saved me.” I continue to tell them everything, and then when I have no more words in my lungs, I stand.

Tobias is next to me, and his one arm wraps around my waist. Together, we walk into the future, leaving the past behind us.

Ready to live and love forever.

Epilogue

Skye

Two years later . . .

Turns out, pushing a nine-pound human being out of your body is not pleasant. My hand reaches out blindly, searching for my husband’s.

Tobias latches onto it, lacing our fingers together.

“I need a distraction.” I’m practically begging.

I turn away from the team of doctors and nurses, giving Tobias my full attention. It helps. As soon as our eyes lock, the idea that I am about to have another piece of the man I love—that our child will look like him, act like him (God, help me), and sound like him—hits me.