“Did you know about all of this?” I change position as his little princess makes an unhappy noise.
“No.” Leif looks lost, trying to convince me and probably himself that we shouldn’t feel bitterness. It wasn’t one mistake that led us here but a chain of them. “We need to move on and mend what is broken. Otherwise, that monster wins.” He wraps his hand around my shoulder as I lift the little baby girl to my nose, inhaling her sweet scent of innocence.
“I’ll mend that bridge after we come back home,” I promise him. “I needed your mother to understand what their actions almost cost us. This time we were lucky. There can’t be another time.”
“I get it, I do.” He kisses my temple. “Now, go to Mark. You two need time alone to lick your wounds, heal your souls, make love.” His nostrils flare, and biceps flex with protectiveness. “In case someone would want to harm my wife and my baby angel, Aisha and I decided to stay. We will look after Liane and Leon.”
I kiss his unusually smooth cheek and pass him his daughter, who beams at her father like he is her whole world. “Thank you, brother. For everything.”
“Cassandra.”
I turn around.
“Nothing’s wrong with me being their father, you know? We are family. The more people love us, the happier we are. One day, you’ll tell them your story. One day, they will realize how fortunate they are to have us all.”
My eyes water as I nod at him.
He’s right, I’ll have to tell them about the past and the deep chasm that almost drowned me. About their father’s determination to save me and heal me with love. I’ll have to tell our story and how our lives are intertwined with pain and happiness.
When I wander into the house quarters where our bedroom is located, I find Mark sitting on the bench situated by the huge window. Resting his elbows on his knees, he watches the trees sway in a hypnotic rhythm. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice me at first as I take the seat next to him.
“They saved us.” A bird lands on the perfectly manicured lawn, tweeting and calling its friends to join him. “So why do I feel this way?” He wraps his hand around me, and I melt under his wing like a missing piece.
“Betrayed?”
He shakily exhales.
“Bitter to fully appreciate what they’ve done.” His eyebrows draw in line as he tries to filter through the emotions slashing him like a razor, trying to understand what this means.
I uncurl from under his wing, needing to give him a chance to feel this anguish, and grasp his face full of cuts and bruises. “Because they wronged you.”
“If they had told me, I would have accepted them, loved them. I would have had a family.” He chokes on his words. “They stole that choice from me, didn’t they?”
I squeeze his knee.
“You don’t have to force yourself to forgive them. Not right now. Take your time, Mark, feel it all.” I softly kiss his lips, and he responds, pulling me closer. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to move on. Take it from the woman who knows what it’s like to be betrayed. Family is a package of chaos and precious moments of happiness wrapped in mistakes and wrong choices. But it is our family, and we’re going to fix it.”
His honey gaze starts to simmer like flames of love and lust, mixing into the untamed need to reassure each other we are at home. We are safe. We are alive. I can’t look away or break the connection flowing from his soul to mine like two oceans reuniting. I’m drowning from a desperate need to feel his chiseled body on mine, his cock buried deep inside of me until we are unable to resurface and exist without each other.
“Be my forever, Cassandra.”
I gasp as he looks at me like an open book, ready to close this chapter of terror and start a new one written in love.
“Take my heartbeats,” he adds, kissing the sensitive skin on my neck and my pulse skyrockets. “Write our story with me.” His caramel gaze begs me not to deny him this.
“Mark,” I gasp, searching for his demons so I could soothe him, but I find not them but a gulf of love pouring into me.
“Be my wife until the ink fades and my heart stops beating.” He cups my face as I drink the words falling from his lips like a balm to my soul.
I know that for this intoxicating man, I will trample my worst fears and give up my life just for a chance to be filled with happiness. But mostly to infuse his life with love and a sense of belonging he was denied since he was a child.
“If that’s how long we have,” I whisper, kissing his lips and little cuts close to his eyes. “I’ll take every heartbeat you offer.” I touch his heart, letting the solid thuds beat into my palm. “I’ll be yours forever.” I exhale as he steals my breath away with a kiss.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Logan and you?” I ask when we come up for air.
“Because I didn’t want to live in his shadow. Or be loved because you saw him in me. To see you questioning yourself if what you feel for me is real.” He points to his chest. “I questioned this connection enough for us both.”
Even if I understand his logic, it still stings that he didn’t trust me. But it also makes sense why it took this long for him to open up about this. He wanted to build our relationship first.
“Was me working at Fading Ink a coincidence?”
He shakes his head. “No. I drew you in. I watched over you since the day you woke up at the hospital. I knew you were struggling with your in-laws, looking for a way out. So, I gave you a chance to build your life outside their world. I didn’t expect that it would be so hard to deny this pull or not to fall for you,” he admits then locks his searching gaze on me. “Why did you let them do this to you?”
I don’t pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“Guilt. I felt like I’m indebted to them. Logan’s death ruined their family. I wanted to help. Fix it somehow. I knew what they were going through. But it wasn’t the best decision since I was struggling with my own issues. Add identity crisis to the list, and you’ll get why it took me so long to see through the bullshit and break free.”
“I thought as much,” Mark mutters.
“You didn’t tell me you had heart problems . . .”
“I was diagnosed with heart failure disease in my teens. Even if the Cades gave me the best care money could buy, my condition worsened over the years. I was placed on the heart transplant list. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d live long enough to get it. But then one night everything changed. I lost my brother but got his heart.”
I swallow my emotions, not able to speak.
“You know what the hardest part of owning someone else’s life is?”
I shake my head, fighting the tears.
“That everyone expects you to be what they lost. That I have this huge responsibility not to ruin it. As if my own life somehow isn’t mine anymore.”
And he was fighting to be free all his life. Free of his demons. Free of his captor. Free of debts. Free of pain. Free to make his own decisions. Even his business was built to give him the freedom not to depend on anyone. And yet Logan’s heart was able to bind him to the Cades and me. And then you’re bound by the honor. You are bound for life.
“The only way you could fail this second chance is if you live to satisfy someone else’s expectations. You are bound, Mark. But not by chains. Not indebted to sacrifice this life but to own it. Every day, every decision, every piece of happiness or sadness. Everything bad and good and in between. So, don’t waste it.”
“I won’t,” he croaks, eyes sparkling at me. “We won’t,” he vows, bringing my hand to his mouth. And I believe him.
Epilogue
Two years later
~Cassandra~
“Mom, baby brother’s awake.” Leon barges into the study I use to work from home, out of breath, holding a baby monitor. The cries pierce the office, and I jump to my feet, sprinting after him. “Mom, hurry up,” he urges me as he runs ahead of me.
My bare feet almost slip on the hardwood floor as
we rush into the nursery. I approach the cot, watching my daughter, Liane, softly coo to him through the bars. But our demanding boy’s done waiting. I brush my hand over Liane’s hair as I lean over to touch her baby brother.
Liane smiles at me, eyes sparkling with adoration. “Is he hungry, Mom?”
Our little red-faced peanut definitely isn’t happy. I pick him up, settling his small body in the crook of my arms. “What is it, sweetie?”
He stops for a second and then his lips tremble again. I start to rock him in my arms.
The baby boy chews his fingers ferociously, getting more irritated that it doesn’t satisfy him. He starts to wail again.
“I think he’s teething,” I tell my twins to calm them down since they both look concerned.
Our five-month-old son was an unexpected gift to us. We met our son’s birth mother at the hospital during one of Mark’s heart checkups. She was a fifteen-year-old girl who never had a family and was struggling to keep her head above the water. Without any financial and moral support, she couldn’t take care of the little peanut growing inside her womb. We felt like it was a sign for us. After doctors told us that pregnancy can cause dangerous complications, due to my injuries from the car accident that almost killed me, we decided to adopt. And here he is, our new addition to our family.
“Let’s give him that gel for gums,” I tell them.
Leon rummages through the drawer, taking his brother's pain seriously. When he finds it, he unscrews the lid and squeezes some on my finger so I can rub it on Logan’s aching gums.
“Hey, I’m back!” Mark’s voice filters through the house, and the kids run screaming to greet him, forgetting the crying little bundle in my arms.
Mark won the twins’ hearts and formed quite a strong bond with them. After a half a year living with us, they started calling him dad. I’ll never forget his face when he first heard it. The memory burrowed deep in my heart and tied us even closer.
I listen to them chat downstairs as I bring baby Logan to the changing station.
“Daddy’s home. Let’s change your nappy. We don’t want him to smell your poop.”
He beams at me and my chest glows with joy as I kiss his little feet kicking in the air.
“Hey.” Mark’s husky tone wraps around me as do his arms from behind. “Mm. You look sexy as hell doing this.” He kisses my hair, resting his lips close to my pulse on my neck until I change our little boy. My body melts into his masculine heat, and I exhale a content breath.
“Missed us?” I ask, closing my eyes as he brushes his lips against my ear.
“You have no idea,” he huskily whispers, sending delicious shivers down my spine. His hands caress my waist, and I hum, raising my hand to stroke his jaw. Then he comes around me to kiss Logan’s little hands, reaching for him.
“Here, he’s clean and happy again.” I pass the baby to Mark, kicking his feet, excited. He presses him to his chest and speaks in a hushed tone.
Unable to help myself, I steal a kiss, already yearning to be in his arms naked as he claims me with furious demand. I’ll never get enough of him, of his passionate nature, caring and slightly possessive character. He’s mine in so many ways, as I am his.
“How was your day?” I bite my lip, watching his face transform into a soft look of adoration as his son babbles and smiles back at him. My eyes well up, watching my husband holding our little boy with so much care and affection shining in his eyes, it takes my breath away.
The kids run into the room, tangling around Mark’s legs until he has to sit on the chair and let them park on his lap. His eyes sparkle as they speak about their day. In his white unbuttoned shirt and sleeves rolled up, exposing his new tattoos, he looks like sin. My sin. My heaven.
Joy and peace cling to him, and I want to sip it off his lips.
Leon once told me when I asked why they were calling him dad that, “He belongs with us.” And I know he does because Mark is our beginning.
“It was a busy day. We’re almost done with projects, just a few things left to do, and we’re good to launch. And you?” I lick my lips.
“I haven’t done as much as I would want, but I managed to do quite a lot. I think Peter will be happy with me,” I tell him.
We managed to buy back Fading Ink, since after the rescue operation when the funds were returned. And now, we both work there even if I’m on maternity leave.
We got married in a small chapel six months after the rescue mission since we didn’t want to waste time. We didn’t care for a big event, or party, we just wanted to start a new life. Our wedding felt like reuniting our family, absolving our mistakes and uniting our hearts. We’re still trying to mend bridges and fix what was broken with the Cades. But traumas and pain taught us humility, and to be patient and more sympathetic toward each other. With time, we might succeed.
“Want to go for a walk?”
I nod, kissing him with so much passion when he puts little Logan into the cot to get a stroller. His hard length presses into my belly. “Go, or I’ll take you right here right now,” he threatens me.
Grinning, I leave to grab a blanket, make a bottle of milk, sandwiches, and other snacks, knowing they’ll get hungry running around all day. The twins gather a few toys for their baby brother and a ball to play at the lake. Settling down with little Logan in the shade, I watch Mark play football with Leon and Liane.
We are finally home.
Peace surrounds me as I hold my boy in my arms, playing with his hands. We named our little angel after Logan. It felt right to give him the name of the man who saved us both. Who we loved and lost.
Happy laughter echoes around the lake as they play. Their joy is beautiful music to my soul, healing my darkness, soothing my battered heart.
“Soon you will be running with them,” I coo to the baby boy.
Scars and pain taught us to appreciate life more, especially on the days when it’s pure bliss dipped in sunshine. We refuse to let anyone steal it from us. Not when we found each other and fought death, loss, and an evil enemy to keep it. Not when we fit each other’s broken lives in sync as a perfect tune. We have one eternity to heal our wounds and make memories.
A little breeze skims over my arms and hair, bringing eerie awareness.
“Hi,” I whisper to the wind as it ruffles the leaves above my head on the tree, loosening up a few to fall.
They are here.
Sometimes I can feel their presence as if they are with me. A ghostly laugh echoing from the past sails in the air and then disappears, tugging at the memories. I gasp, remembering my little boys, Nate and Ethan, playing together, and the young woman I once was. And the lost love that left an empty hole inside of me, now is full of beautiful, precious sorrow.
Back then, I wasn’t tough enough to cope with it, or strong enough to face my mistakes or rise above it. I thought if I closed the walls around my heart, I would be able to survive it. I was wrong. Logan taught me that love and time can heal the soul, soothe the broken heart if you’re brave enough to own it. Happiness is a choice, a path we choose to walk but not a destination. It’s acceptance of who we are and appreciation of what we already have.
“We’ll be okay,” I tell him, hoping that my boys and Logan can finally rest in peace. “I’m going to take care of them. Your heart and your children,” I vow to Logan. “Take care of mine,” I ask, feeling like invisible restraints loosened around me as my tears of gratitude wash over my face, falling on the little baby boy playing in my arms. “Thank you for coming into my life. For every gift. And your love.”
My chest vibrates with emotions, clogging my throat. There will never be enough words left in this world to express what Logan truly gave me.
Mark’s head turns toward me as if my pain entwined in love calls to him. He jogs toward me, sensing my emotional state. I smile through my teary expression as all three gather around us. Mark presses his lips to my temple, looping his arms around me. I cup his face, bringing my lips to his, feeling every
hue of happiness flood my heart, reaching his and reuniting us.
We aren’t going to waste it.
The End
Acknowledgments
There have been so many obstacles in writing this particular book. After Logan and Cassandra’s story, I couldn’t bring myself to write at all. But I had many great people who were rooting for me, who helped me to get through writer’s block, and encouraged me to finish Cassandra’s story.
Thank you, my beautiful Tangled Hearts, you are a very encouraging force, and I’m so grateful I have such a beautiful community. Without you, I might have never done it.
And most of all, I’m thankful for my loving, caring family. My boys and my patient husband, who hasn’t given up on me. You are my rocks, and I love you so damn much. Forgive me for being absent and disconnected from the real world. For understanding that I have to live in my head for this dream to work.
Dreamers must dream. Right?
Thank you, Cynthia Krietz, showing such as a support and beta reading my book. For loving my flawed but strong characters and giving me hope that this story will touch others too. My heart also goes to my wonderful street team, who was nothing but a supporting and loving bunch. Thank you for loving my words and stories. Inspiring me not to give up.
I can’t express my gratitude enough to Rebecca Berland and Angel Nyx, who saved me. Thank you, girls, you know what I am referring to. You are stuck with me now. Forever!
Also huge thank you to my developmental editor Jolie Vines, who provided me with priceless critique and guidance. When I finished my first draft, I knew something was missing, and you provided me with a new vantage point and understanding how to proceed. Your recommendations, comments, and insight helped me shape up my story and my stubborn characters. I learned so much from you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Be sure I’ll be coming for more.
Tangled IN LIES (Book#3, IN YOU) Page 33