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Epilogue.
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2026-02-16 12:51:51
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Heels & Handcuffs - Club Gold Trilogy Epilogue.
Bella. I stood in the nursery, rocking our daughter gently as she drifted off to sleep. At three months old, Lily Grace Greyson already had her fathers wrapped around her tiny finger. She had Alex's dark hair and serious expression, but Nick's easy smile. And she had all three of us completely, utterly besotted. The nursery walls were painted a soft lavender, decorated with the abstract paintings I'd created during my pregnancy—swirls of purple, gold, and silver that represented the love that had created this precious life. One of Nick's photographs, a stunning black and white image of Alex and me laughing together, hung above the changing table. We'd built this room together, each of us contributing something that made it uniquely ours. "Is she asleep?" Nick whispered from the doorway, his voice soft with wonder. Even after three months, he still looked at Lily like she was a miracle. I nodded, carefully placing her in the crib adorned with the handmade quilt Margaret had stitch
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Bella. I stood in the art studio, surrounded by canvases in various stages of completion. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow fell softly, blanketing our property in white. Six months in this house, and it already felt more like home than anywhere I'd ever lived. "You're getting really good at this," Maya said, examining my latest painting—an abstract piece in blues and golds. "Seriously, Bella. You could show this." "You think so?" I asked, studying the canvas critically. "I know so. In fact, the gallery I intern at is looking for new artists for their spring show. You should submit." The idea both thrilled and terrified me. "I don't know if I'm ready for that." "You're absolutely ready. And if you don't believe me, ask Nick. He's the professional artist." As if summoned, Nick appeared in the doorway with two mugs of hot chocolate. "Did someone say my name?" "I'm trying to convince Bella to submit her work to a gallery show," Maya explained. Nick crossed to the canva
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Alex. The moving truck pulled up to our new house on a crisp Saturday morning, and I watched Bella's face light up with excitement as she took in the Victorian mansion we'd purchased together. The house was everything we'd wanted—historic charm with modern updates, six bedrooms, a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves that had sold me immediately, a studio space with perfect natural light for Nick's photography, and a sunroom that Bella had already claimed as her painting studio. The wraparound porch and mature oak trees in the yard made it feel like a home, not just a house. It felt like possibility, like future, like the beginning of something permanent and beautiful. "It's really happening," she said, squeezing my hand as she stared up at the turret that rose from the third floor, her eyes wide with wonder. "We're really moving in. This is really ours." Her voice carried a note of disbelief, and I understood it. A year ago, she'd been trapped in an abusive relationship, convinc
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Bella."Where are we going?" I asked for the third time as Alex drove us out of the city, watching the skyscrapers give way to suburbs and then to rolling countryside."It's a surprise," he said, his lips curved in a mysterious smile that made my stomach flutter with anticipation."I hate surprises," I muttered, though that wasn't entirely true anymore. Marcus's surprises had been terrifying—unexpected visits that ended in punishment, sudden changes to rules I didn't know existed, tests I was designed to fail. But Alex and Nick's surprises tended to be wonderful—flowers delivered to my classroom, reservations at restaurants I'd mentioned wanting to try, thoughtful gifts that showed they actually listened to me.Nick reached from the backseat to squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. "Trust us. You're going to love this."And I did trust them. Completely. That realization still took my breath away sometimes—that I could trust again, that I could let myself be vulnerable without fear.We dro
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Nick. "So what do you think?" I asked Bella, spreading the investment proposal across the dining table. "The artist collective needs funding to establish a permanent gallery space. In return, we get first option on purchasing any pieces that go up for sale, plus a percentage of gallery sales." Bella studied the documents, her brow furrowed in concentration in that adorable way she had when she was thinking deeply about something. Over the past month, we'd been gradually involving her in business discussions, testing the waters to see if she had an interest in the work Alex and I did. And I was consistently impressed by her insights—she saw patterns and connections we sometimes missed, approached problems from angles we hadn't considered. "The numbers look good," she said slowly, running her finger down the projected revenue column. "But have you visited the space? Seen the artists' work in person? Met with them to understand their vision?" "Not yet. That's scheduled for next week
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Bella. The whispers started in my third week of classes. At first, I thought I was imagining it—the way conversations stopped when I walked into a room, the sidelong glances, the sudden intense interest in their phones when I looked up. I told myself I was being paranoid, that my traumatic past was making me see threats where there were none. But by Friday, it was unmistakable. "Did you hear?" I overheard two girls in the bathroom, their voices echoing off the tile walls. I'd just entered a stall and they clearly didn't know I was there. "That's her. The one who's dating both Greyson twins." "Both of them? Like, at the same time?" The second voice was incredulous, almost scandalized. "Apparently. My cousin works at their company and says they're all living together in this massive penthouse. Can you imagine? Two guys, one girl, all under the same roof. It's so weird." "I don't know if it's weird or amazing," the first girl laughed. "Have you seen them? They're identical and gor
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