CHAPTER 60 EPILOGUE
CHRISTIAN'S POV
Being a shadow of myself would have been an understatement.
I was the shadow.
My life had turned upside down ever since Brenda's death. I had created a small corner in the world where only my daughter and I existed. I had become quieter. Darker. Colder.
I spoke to no one except Saint.
Misfortune had become my middle name. I had lost everything.
Everything except my daughter.
And I swore that no one would ever touch a single strand of hair on her head.
I was told that Daemonikai was dead.
Reginald had made sure of it.
He'd been killed in the most gruesome way imaginable—cut into pieces and burned over an open fire.
I thought his death would bring me peace.
It didn't.
Nothing did.
Every morning, I woke up to the same reality.
Brenda was gone.
Every night, I went to sleep carrying the weight of failing her.
I was fighting a war against my own mind, hanging by a thread.
The only reason I hadn't completely fallen apart was Saint.
She kept me tethered to life.
She kept me breathing.
We were all dressed in black as we laid Brenda to rest.
The pain inside my chest was so overwhelming that I couldn't even cry anymore.
I simply sat there, numb.
Saint rested on my lap.
She had no idea what was happening.
No idea that the woman being lowered into the ground was her mother.
No idea that she would grow up without hearing Brenda's laugh.
Without feeling her embrace.
Without knowing the incredible woman who brought her into this world.
My heart broke all over again.
How was I supposed to explain this to her someday?
How was I supposed to tell her that her mother was gone?
How was I supposed to live with the fact that I couldn't save her?
As though she sensed the storm raging inside me, Saint suddenly lifted her tiny hand and placed it against my cheek.
Then she smiled.
A bright, innocent smile.
A smile so much like Brenda's that it nearly stole the air from my lungs.
My lips curved upward before I could stop them.
For the first time in weeks, something shifted inside me.
A tiny spark.
A tiny candle burning against the darkness consuming my soul.
And in that moment, I made a promise.
I would never allow that smile to disappear.
Saint was my daughter.
My little girl.
My tiny piece of Brenda.
And if I couldn't live for myself anymore, then I would live for her.
One by one, everyone left.
The mourners.
The guards.
The family.
Eventually, Reginald gently took Saint from my arms and carried her home.
I stayed behind.
Alone.
Standing before Brenda's grave.
The fresh earth looked wrong.
Unnatural.
As if the world itself had made a mistake.
I stared at the tombstone for what felt like hours before finally speaking.
"You know..." I laughed bitterly. "It's funny how life works."
The wind stirred around me.
"You spent so much time trying to get close to me... and I spent so much time pushing you away."
My throat tightened.
"And now you're gone."
The words nearly broke me.
I lowered my head.
"You're gone, and I'm still here."
The tears finally came.
Hot.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
I dropped to my knees.
"Our daughter needs you."
My voice cracked.
"I need you."
The grief I'd been carrying burst through every wall I'd built around myself.
I cried.
Not as a mafia leader.
Not as a feared man.
Just as a broken one.
A man mourning the love of his life.
When the storm inside me finally settled, I rested a hand on her gravestone.
"I promise you something, Brenda."
My voice was hoarse.
But steady.
"I'll be a better man for our daughter."
I swallowed hard.
"I'll never let her be dragged into this life."
The mafia.
The blood.
The violence.
The darkness.
It would all end with me.
"We'll have nothing to do with that world."
I closed my eyes.
"I'll build a life for her. A real one."
A tear rolled down my cheek.
"A life where she's safe."
Another followed.
"A life where she's happy."
I rested my forehead against the cold stone.
"I love you."
The words came easily.
Because they were the truest thing I had ever said.
"I will always love you."
No matter how many years passed.
No matter where life carried me.
No matter what became of me.
That would never change.
The stars slowly appeared overhead.
The moon bathed the cemetery in silver light.
And still I remained there.
Beside her.
Talking to her.
Loving her.
Missing her.
When exhaustion finally claimed me, I lay beside her grave and stared up at the night sky.
Tomorrow would come whether I wanted it to or not.
The pain would still be there.
The grief would still be there.
But so would Saint.
And for her...