┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Epilogue

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Chapter 44: Epilogue (Anastasia's POV)

Seven years later...

"Mia Cara," Dante called out. 

I lifted my eyes just in time to catch him flipping the pancake, tossing it into the air before catching it perfectly. 

"Yeah?" two voices replied in sync. 

He spun around to face us, a knowing smile already dancing on his lips. "Mia Cara," he repeated with a small chuckle this time. 

"Which one, Daddy?" 

My eyes cut to Dante's. "Yeah," I chimed in, agreeing. "Which one, baby?" I asked. 

He let out a dry, amused chuckle. "I've already learned the hard way that when my wife and my daughter ask me which one of them is Mia Cara, I should not answer," he smirked, rounding the table to stop at my side, pressing a soft kiss against my lips as I faced him. 

"Hi," I smiled.

"Hi," he mumbled, resting his hands on either side of my waist. 

"Hi," Francesca added behind me, mostly mumbling to herself. We both turned to look at her, laughing as she continued drawing on the notebook before her. 

Spinning back around to face Dante, I looped my arms around his waist, staring up at him. "Are you going to work?" 

"Mm-hmm," he nodded, taking my face in his hands after brushing the hair out of my face. 

"Why?" I sighed, "you're leaving me alone with your daughter again." 

"She's your daughter too," he laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

"She only likes you," I whispered quietly. 

"I like Mommy too," she argued from behind me. 

My brows twitched as Dante spun my stool around so I could face her. "You do?" I grinned. 

She nodded, continuing her masterpiece. "Yes." 

"Then come here," I teased, tickling her ribs. 

As she squealed, the crayon slipping from her fingers, I scooped her up, seating her on the countertop before me. A scream escaped her as she threw her head back in a fit of laughter and giggles until I finally stopped tickling her. 

She grabbed my cheeks lightly, just as Dante had in front of her moments ago. "Mommy, stop!" she shrieked. 

"All right, come here," I chuckled, keeping my hands around her waist to catch her if she fell or made any sudden movements. "Can I take you for your bath now? You wanted to stay and watch Daddy make me pancakes, but now he's done." 

She blinked those big doe eyes once and turned to look at Dante as she lightly pressed her palms together in her lap. 

"No," Dante said slowly, shaking his head, "I won't let you use those eyes to get out of bath time, Francesca." 

She seemed almost confused that her charm wasn't working on her father this morning. 

"Once Mommy's done eating, you go and take a bath, okay?" Dante asked her softly, brushing her hair back with his fingers. 

"Okay," she finally sang, dramatically letting her head fall forward in exaggerated disappointment. She was always a sucker for theatrics. From screaming in the middle of the night just to get more attention from us to using her doll eyes and pretty smile to get away with everything. 

Our little three-year-old had both of us completely wrapped around her finger, and as two very stubborn, straightforward, and rather cold people, she took Dante and me by complete surprise. 

It felt a little strange at first. I hadn't realized it was possible to love more than one person so much. Before we had Francesca, I was certain there was no one else in this universe I could ever love as much as I loved Dante. But it was when I felt her tiny little hand in mine and held her, a small and fragile little girl, in my arms that I realized just how precious another soul could become to me. 

Undoubtedly, it had a huge impact on Dante, changing him forever. I'd never seen him be so gentle with anybody. He was stupidly in love with our little baby, so much so that he cried when he saw her for the first time outside the delivery room. 

"Until then," Dante cleared his throat, taking Francesca in his arms, "I get to keep you." 

Her smile brightened up almost instantly as she dropped her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes while she continuously grinned. 

Grabbing my plate and serving a pancake onto it, Dante slid it in front of me. "Come on," he said softly, "you haven't eaten all morning." 

I watched him in amusement as he swayed around the kitchen, dancing with Francesca, humming random tunes he'd picked up on from all the Disney movies he watched with her. He'd come to have a smile on his face, and I loved nothing more than seeing him that way, even if it only showed itself in front of his daughter and his wife. 

Sometimes, it felt like nothing had changed. Seven years had flown by, but I would still ask myself where all that time went. 

Not too long after Dante recovered and got out of the hospital, he asked me to marry him. I was never a romantic, I never had my ideal proposal mapped out in my head, but I wouldn't have it any other way. He did everything right. 

Soft lights and candles lit throughout my apartment, little clues hidden around the house, pointing him to where he waited on the rooftop, and photographs of us decorating the place. I remembered it like it was yesterday. It baffled me whenever I remembered six years had passed. 

Another year after that, we got married. People talked, it was all they ever did, and we had enough of them telling us that we were rushing into things. But nobody knew how he made me feel. He made me feel loved, adored, and cherished, and I knew there wasn't another day I wanted to spend not being his wife. 

Then, three years ago, we had Francesca, and she changed both our lives, certainly for the better. 

"Francesca, honey," I called out, standing up to leave my dishes in the sink, only for Dante to take them out of my hand the moment I rose to my feet. "Come on. Let me get you ready. Leo and Julia are about to come over." 

"Amara's coming?" Dante asked, undoing his apron. 

"Yeah," I breathed out, "we're taking the kids out for the day." 

He paused. "All of them?" 

"All of them," I confirmed. I watched him untie the apron as I held Francesca on my hip, then slowly set her onto her feet. "Head upstairs, honey," I told her while she carelessly patted Kenji's head. "I'll be right there. Be careful on the stairs!" I called out after her. 

Dante turned to me expectantly, arching a brow. "Did you need something, Mrs Rossi?" he asked knowingly. 

"Just this," I mumbled through a grin as I pushed up on my toes to kiss him again, harder and longer this time. He watched me for several seconds once I pulled away. I lifted my brows in question. "Why are you looking at me like that?" 

He sighed, bracing his arms on the counter on either side of me, caging me between his arms. "You cannot possibly expect me to contain myself when you kiss me like that, Mia Cara." 

"Then how should I kiss you?" I whispered, biting down a smile. 

"Like you hate me," he whispered in return, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear before he started trailing kisses down my neck. Soft, slow, and lazy kisses that made me weak in my fucking knees. 

"Mm-hmm," I hummed absentmindedly, my grip tightening on the counter. 

"Like you can't wait for me to fuck you," he added, grinning against my skin. 

I couldn't stifle the small moan that escaped me at his words, at the kisses he was leaving all over my throat, at the way he gripped my bare waist now, his fingers slipping beneath my shirt. "Francesca's definitely staying over at Amara's tonight," I mumbled, pushing him away and leaving a quick kiss against his lips. 

He laughed softly and gripped my wrist, pulling me back swiftly before I could escape him. 

"You'll be the death of me," I laughed as he leaned in to kiss me again. 

"Mommy!" came a shout. 

"I have to go," I chuckled, freeing myself from Dante's grip. 

"Anastasia!" he called out as I rushed up the stairs. 

Stopping midway, I sighed and turned to face him, grinning widely. "Yes, Dante?" 

He stared at me pointedly. 

I laughed again, "Yes, my dear husband?" 

"I love you," he said. 

"I love you," I laughed before turning back around and rushing to the bathroom, where I found Francesca standing in the shower, still fully clothed. 

"I'm waiting!" she scoffed, throwing her hands up dramatically. 

"Sorry, honey," I chuckled, helping her out of them. "I made you wait, didn't I?" 

"It's okay," she sighed. 

Such a little drama queen. 

"Really?" I asked, playing along with a pout. 

"Yes," she smiled, kissing my cheek.  

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 44

AHHH WE ARE FINISHED WITH THIS BOOK!!!

I've wanted to write this epilogue for so long, but I've barely had the time. I had to rush this out in an hour, but I hope you guys enjoyed it!!

I'll be posting the details of the next book in the very next update and then uploading the book and its aesthetics (aesthetics will be linked - they'll be on my Pinterest)

But I'll probably update with the first chapter in the next few days

I'll see you guys there!!