Chapter 34

 FIVE YEARS LATER

AVERY –

Victoria left me everything. The club. Her apartment. Her legacy.

I don’t know how or when she managed it – when she had the time to prepare for an end she never spoke of –but she did. Right down to the last signature. Even from the grave, she was thinking of me.

The pain is still fresh. Some days, it feels like it only happened yesterday. Some nights, I still wake up expecting to hear your voice in the dark, your breath against my neck, the weight of your hand curled around mine. But the bed is always empty. The silence always wins.

In the first year, I left the club in Darius’ hands. I couldn’t be there, not with her scent still clinging to the leather booths, her name whispered in corners by those who feared and loved her in equal measure. It was too soon. Too much.

I only went to her apartment when I needed her. When the weight in my chest became too heavy and all I wanted was to feel close to her again. I’d sit on her untouched bed, wear one of her shirts, press my face into her pillow and breathe her in like oxygen. It hurt every time. But it was the only thing that helped.

I wasn’t living for me yet. But I was trying.

And I was surrounded by people who caught me when I fell.

Darius has been a rock. A guide. A kind of father I never had. We don’t always need words to grieve. Sometimes we just sit, two people bound by love and loss and the memory of the woman who changed us both. I’m thankful for the quiet understanding in his eyes. For the way he never pushes, never pries.

And Eli… God, Eli. I told him everything. About you. About the kills. About the love that bloomed from fire and fear and longing. He didn’t flinch. He just held me when I broke down and cracked jokes when I needed air. He’s been my lifeline. My person.

I’m trying to live the life you wanted for me. A life with softness in it. With purpose. With breath and music and color.

And I’m doing it. For you. For Juno, curled up against my legs every night like a guardian angel with fur and claws.

One day, I’ll do it for me. But I’m not there yet. And that’s okay.

The stone is still the same. Black marble. Simple engraving. Her name. The dates. Nothing more. Because nothing more was needed. Victoria Vale. No titles. No epitaph. Just her name – etched into the earth like it had already been carved into my soul. It’s been five years. And still, every time I stand here, the breath catches in my chest. But it no longer feels like drowning. I kneel in the grass, brush a few fallen leaves from the base of the headstone.

Juno’s older now. Slower. She sits beside me, tail curled neatly around her body like the patient little queen she always was. She never liked cemeteries, but she comes every time. Somehow, she knows it’s for you. I place the bouquet – white orchids and dark red peonies. Her favorites. Of course.

“I did it,” I whisper. “I made it.” I sit back on my heels, eyes raised to the trees overhead. The sun is slipping through the branches like gold through stained glass. The wind is soft, warm against my cheeks. I always come around this time of year. Early autumn. The air smells like endings and beginnings at once.

“I kept the club,” I go on. “It’s a bit different now, but… I think you’d still love it. Darius comes by sometimes. Eli too. He teaches dance classes in the back studio. He’s good at it, even if he refuses to admit it.” I smile faintly. “And I live in your apartment now. Took me a while, but I made it mine. I kept your books on the shelves” a chuckle escapes my lips. “Even the terrible ones.”

I take a moment to breathe the autumn air in before I go on. “I kept your work, too,” I add, my voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her. “Darius taught me. Your rules, your precision… I learned it all. Sometimes, in the quiet before it happens, I can almost feel you guiding my hand.” I pause, letting the weight of the next words settle in the quiet air. “And guess who my first target was? Jason’s gone. I made sure he found his place in hell.” I pause again, the memory a cold, sharp stone in my chest.

The breeze carries the sound of laughter from somewhere beyond the cemetery gates. A reminder that the world keeps going. That life doesn’t wait. And neither have I.

“I still talk to you,” I admit, quieter now. “When it’s too quiet at night. When I miss your voice. Sometimes I still wake up reaching for you, and it takes me a second to remember…” I press a hand to my chest. “But I’m okay. I am. You taught me how to be.” A long silence stretches. I let it. Let it fill the space between us. It’s not empty – it never is. It’s full of memories. Of touches. Of truths whispered in the dark. Of every word we never said but felt anyway.

I rise slowly. Juno does too. Her joints creak but she’s still got fight in her. “Thank you,” I whisper, one last time. “For everything.” And then I turn. I don’t say goodbye. I never do. Because she’s never really gone. Not when I see her in the way the city lights flicker against the rain. Not when I hear her voice in the beat of a song. Not when I close my eyes and remember what it felt like to be wanted. To be loved like fire. She was a storm. And she left me burning. But I learned how to carry the flame.

To the Reader who made it to the final page,

Thank you so much for staying with this story until the very end. It means the world to me that you took this journey.

Now that it’s over, I’d love to know what you thought. Feel free to share your thoughts in a review or reach out to me directly. Your feedback is a gift.

With sincere thanks,

Cin.