The End

One year later. 

The ocean sparkled like glass under the late spring sun, the waves a soft hush in the distance. From the wide terrace of their coastal home, her favorite of the three places they now split their time between,   Vivienne rocked gently in a cushioned chair, a mug of tea in one hand and a baby monitor in the other.

She may not have wanted to recreate the beach wedding from Weston's fake photos, but she did love being married beside the ocean. The real thing, it turned out, was far better than the fiction ever could have been.

Inside, laughter rang out.

Knox’s deep voice and a tiny, gurgling squeal.

Elodie was a tiny, perfect clone of her father. Same eyes, same expression, same ridiculous pout when she didn’t get her way. Not that she ever didn’t get her way. Not with Knox around.

At only four months old, she had him wrapped around her tiny fingers. He read bedtime stories with full dramatic flair, vetoed every outfit that wasn’t soft enough, and insisted on carrying her everywhere like a royal procession.

Vivienne let the breeze ruffle her hair, the scent of salt and sun-drenched lavender floating in through the open doors.

The nursery was soft and chaotic in the best way.

They hadn’t even needed to lie much about when she was born. She’d gone so far past her due date, it had become a running joke and Knox had practically turned into a full-time nurse. Nearly ten months pregnant, he had refused to leave her side, hovering with snacks, hot compresses, and nervous threats to call every specialist in the country if she so much as winced.

Knox stepped onto the terrace with their daughter nestled in his arms, her dark curls scraped into a tiny top-knot. He looked like sin and summer—barefoot, sun-kissed, with his shirt sleeves rolled just high enough to show off a few new tattoos winding up his muscular forearms. His jaw was sharp with a day's stubble, his grin easy and dangerous, and his eyes locked on Vivienne like she was still the only thing worth looking at.

She knew what the rest of the world saw: a movie star, a heartthrob, a man who could stop time with one look.

He looked annoyingly good for someone who’d just been covered in puree and half of a banana.

“She’s demanding more books,” he said, mock-exasperated. “She’s already had six. And it’s not even noon.”

Vivienne laughed. “She's four months, not four years, Knox.”

"Yeah, I know... but she made that face whenever I stopped." He grinned, brushing a kiss to her temple before leaning down to nuzzle their daughter’s cheek.

“You’re too good at this,” she whispered.

He met her eyes. “Only because I have the best wife.”

Vivienne reached out and touched his hand, her fingers brushing the wedding band he never took off.

A year later, and somehow, it still felt like magic.

Adjusting to life with Knox hadn’t been entirely seamless, not when his very public love confession had lit the internet on fire. His fan groups had exploded with support, but when he’d followed it up by refusing to kiss any of his co-stars on screen, Reid and Felix had practically been running damage control around the clock. Then he’d gone and married the woman who had supposedly "ruined his career," and overnight, Vivienne had become public enemy number one on his largest fan forums.

Thankfully, the storm shifted just as quickly. The production crew, with Knox’s quiet permission, leaked behind-the-scenes footage of the kiss scene, where Vivienne had filled in as a double. The internet exploded. Fans declared it the most racy, emotionally intense kiss scene of his career.

After that, they had to increase security, paparazzi and fans alike were desperate to get a glimpse of them together. Now Knox was frequently caught on camera walking through airports and city streets with their daughter strapped to his chest, sunglasses on and grin easy. Vivienne had made one paparazzi photo in particular her phone background: Knox flashing a mischievous smile and a wink at the camera, as Elodie let out a dramatic yawn from her wrap like a born performer.

Some even started campaigns to cast Vivienne as his co-star in every future project, especially in films with intimate scenes. It was chaotic, surreal, and oddly flattering.

But through it all, he never wavered. And neither did she.

Weston had been sentenced to prison six months earlier. Vince, despite everything, hadn’t lifted a finger to save him. And Celeste, who had been facing only a minor penalty, had foolishly tried to flee during her trial. The failed escape earned her a far more serious sentence of her own.

Thankfully, Vince never fully suspected the leak had come from Vivienne. Thanks to Knox’s team, the files had been traced to an anonymous Carter Industries IP address. One that offered just enough distance to keep her name out of it entirely.

Aldridge and Carter Industries now both relied on M Global's expansive distribution channels. What had started as a quiet acquisition turned into a powerhouse merger, propelling both companies into massive growth. But Carter Industries had officially been restructured as a charitable foundation. Vivienne dabbled in it occasionally, helping plan benefit events and awareness campaigns. But anytime a fundraiser or donation drive hit a wall, the donation target was magically met by an anonymous benefactor.

She was fairly certain that benefactor’s name started with a K.

***

That evening, the sun dipped low over the sea, casting golden light across the nursery walls as Knox rocked Elodie in his arms. Her soft babble had turned to sleepy murmurs, her tiny fingers curling against his shirt as he sang something low under his breath.

Vivienne leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with a warmth in her chest she hadn’t known was possible a year ago. The man who’d once set the internet ablaze with a single speech now moved like he belonged in lullabies and quiet rooms.

He kissed Elodie's forehead, murmured something that made the baby sigh in her sleep, and gently placed her in the crib. He lingered there a moment, adjusting the blanket, brushing a finger down her cheek.

Then he turned, and found Vivienne watching him.

His eyes darkened just slightly.

“That look,” he said, voice low, “is dangerous.”

Vivienne smiled, slow and knowing, as he walked toward her, shutting the nursery door quietly behind him.

“You think I look dangerous?” she teased.

“No,” he said, backing her into the hallway wall. “I feel dangerous.”

Her breath stalled as he kissed her, hungry and hot, nothing sleepy or sweet about it.

She smirked, tugging one shoulder of her loose shirt, letting it slide down slowly until the lacy edge of her bra cup was revealed.

She’d gained very little from her marriage to Weston. Almost exclusively, heartache and trauma. But familiarity with luxury lingerie and the confidence to wear it? That had been a strange and enduring side effect. She liked the way Knox looked at her now, the way his gaze darkened the moment that little sliver of lace came into view.

Knox’s eyes narrowed, his hands already possessive at her waist. She could feel his erection pressing hard against her hip, a silent promise of what he was holding back. One hand slid down to grip her ass, firm and claiming, making her breath stutter. He was barely keeping himself restrained. “I need my angel to turn into my little vixen,” he murmured, his voice dark and full of heat. “Right here. Right now.”

When he pulled back just enough to look at her, his voice dropped.

“Ready to try for another one?”

Vivienne laughed, breathless, but her eyes burned with heat. “Already?”

Knox bent to kiss her jaw, then lower, his lips grazing her neck. “Angel, I’ve been thinking about it since the moment we brought her home.”

She slid her hands up under his shirt. “You’re ridiculous.”

He pulled her into him, hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her. “Maybe. But I’m also very, very motivated.”

They didn’t make it far. He carried her down the hall, into their bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. Clothes vanished between kisses, his mouth on her skin like he was making a promise with every touch.

He tasted her, drawing out moans as his mouth moved down her body, his tongue lingering over the places he knew made her gasp and grab the sheets. When he settled between her thighs, she trembled, fingers fisting in his hair as he licked her slowly, deeply, until she was writhing beneath him.

When he finally slid back up, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, he sank into her with a low, guttural sound, hard and full, a claiming that made her breath catch.

He moved with slow, relentless purpose, dragging pleasure from her until she was keening his name. His free hand traced over her curves, memorizing her all over again, his body grounding her even as he pushed her higher.

"I want you full of me," he growled in her ear, "again. And again."

Vivi shattered on a cry, legs locking around his hips.

And with one last deep thrust, he followed. Groaning her name into her neck as he spilled inside her, hot and overwhelming. She gasped at the sensation, the heat of it, the primal shudder that went through him as he emptied into her.

It was everything she'd wanted. Needed. The feeling of him filling her, hot and deep, as if claiming every inch of her all over again. Of tying herself to this man, his body, his breath, his soul, until their lives were so entangled they could never be undone.

She wanted more. More of him. More beautiful babies with his eyes and his stubbornness and his impossible, ruinous love.

She craved a house full of tiny Knoxes, their chaotic, perfect little family growing with every breath they took together.

She wanted it all.

Afterward, he held her close in the dim light, brushing kisses across her shoulder as her breathing slowed. She looked up at him, eyes heavy, blissful.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Knox smiled, eyes burning soft and steady. “I love you more, Angel.”

And she felt it. He was completely, endlessly hers.