The afternoon breeze is soothing against my arms as we sit around a long table, feasting outside. Jackson and Alma’s kids chase each other around the yard while Evan’s daughters take selfies for their social media, giggling between snapshots. My mom and Steve chat with Ana and her boyfriend, David, while I stroke Tito’s fluffy fur as he naps on my lap. The rambunctious little poodle has grown fond of me. I must admit he’s adorable when he’s not biting my ankles. 

I sigh, completely content and in love with the family Angie and I fused.

Someone needs to pinch me. 

It’s surreal as I gaze at everyone. They’re here to support me and welcome me home in the same place where I sold my soul—where I lost sight of who I was. It took a while for my mom and Steve to accept that I would take over a corrupt empire, but they get it now. I run things differently. I hear people out, I’m fair in my decisions, I don’t treat anyone like they’re beneath me or make threats to have their respect, and I make donations to different causes. 

So, there is good in what I do.

But my mom still refuses to move in here with us. In fact, they reject any financial aid I offer, and I understand.

“Did you tell him?” Alma asks, which tugs my attention to her.

“Tell me what?”

Jackson sets his knife and fork down and gives her a stern look. “I was going to wait until we were done eating.”

“Jacks,” I laugh. “I’ve spent the last eight years in San Quintin. I can handle whatever you’ve gotta tell me.” 

“Fine,” he sighs and sits back in his chair. “No one has heard from or about Chloe since she exited prison a few months ago. It’s like she vanished.”

“And?” I laugh.

“And we thought you’d want to know.” He shrugs.

“I want to find her and beat her ass,” Alma grumbles.

“Babe…” Jackson gives her another stern look.

“What? I hate her. I hate what she did. Fucking rat-faced bitch.”

“Pregnant women shouldn’t talk like that,” I tease. 

“But you can find her with your connections, right?” Alma says.

“Yeah, but I don’t care to.”

“What!?” She shifts her entire body to face me. “Chloe doesn’t deserve to be out there living her life, Miguel. Not after everything she did to all of us.” 

“Chloe did her time.” I shrug. “And from what I heard, she had it rough in there. Inmates don’t like snitches. She got jumped a bunch of times, and on a few occasions, she was in the infirmary for several days. So, wherever she is, I doubt she’s living a peaceful life. She probably skipped town because she heard I was getting out early and thinks I’ll go after her, but I have no desire to.”

“I guess prison made you soft…” Alma mutters.

“Not soft,” Evan chimes in. “A change in perspective. If you want to find Chloe and kick her ass, no one is stopping you.”

Alma is about to fire back, but Jackson squeezes her hand and shakes his head. She closes her mouth, picks up her utensils, and saws into the prime rib on her plate like it's Chloe's face. Some things never change. Or rather, some people never change. Maybe one day, Alma will find the peace she needs, but it won’t be through me. My gaze drifts to Angie. She’s standing at the patio's edge, watching Daisy play with the kids. My wife looks like a goddess, with her curly hair pinned in an updo and loose tendrils catching the sunlight. I miss her already, so I go to her and weave my arms around her, my chin resting on the top of her head.

“Why are you over here alone, Mrs. Gomez?” 

She reaches up and strokes my cheek, then points into the distance. “Well, Mr. Gomez, I was thinking of renewing our vows under those trees. They’re beautiful in the spring when the flowers blossom.”

“But we got married during winter…”

“And? We can re-say our vows anytime,” she huffs. “Besides, we had a prison wedding. I want a real one with all of our family and friends.”

“As you wish, Mrs. Gomez.” I trail my fingers down her left arm and prop her left hand. “Besides, I think you’re due for an upgrade.”

“It hasn’t been ten years yet,” she laughs. “You said I get an upgrade on our tenth anniversary.”

“Did I? Could have sworn I said on our fifth.”

“Hmmm, perhaps you did.” 

“I’ll give you a new ring every anniversary if you want, which means I’m behind on four.” 

“Five!”

“Four,” I laugh. “We got married five years ago.”

“You owe me an engagement ring that I never got.”

“Alright, five.” I press kisses along her neck, and hold Angie tighter. “I’m going to make up for all the lost time. I promise you. I will do whatever I can so we can still have a good life without corruption.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Miguel. This is our life now.”

“No. I’m going to find Jocelyn.”

“And what, hand her over to the police so they can finally slam her with all of the charges she deserves?”

“Perhaps. I’m not sure yet, but with her out there, plotting my demise, I can’t rest. I want my family and more of this.”

“This?” Angie squeezes me.

“All of it. Seeing everyone laughing over a meal, the breeze, and the garden. I want peace.”

“I want it, too.”

"And I was thinking we could save room in our hearts to become foster parents, maybe."

Angie whips around in my arms, her eyes wide with hope. "Really?"

"Yes, which is why I think it's time to leave this life. Sammy can have it. He wants to be the big boss anyway."

"It has been a long time," Angie exhales, nodding. "I'm ready."

“Good. Then we agree.”

“Speaking of things we need to agree on…” Angie sighs. “Now that you’re out, Gwen recommends couples therapy so we can work through any rough patches.”

“Rough patches?” I laugh. “I couldn’t be happier."

“Yes, but we’re going to go through a transitional period of relearning how to be around each other again.”

“I think we bounced back just fine in the shower.”

“I mean it, Miguel!”

“I know, and it’s a good idea. Besides, I’ve kinda missed Gwen's low-cut v-neck sweaters.” 

Angie inhales a sharp breath and smacks my chest. “You pervert!”

“I’ve always been, but you like that about me.” I wink.

Someone clears their throat behind us, so I look over my shoulder and find a guard standing there. 

“Boss,” he says and nods at Angie. “Mrs. Gomez. Bernard and the others are waiting in the library for you.”

I look at Angie, confused.

“Bernard has something urgent to discuss,” she explains. “I wanted him to wait until tomorrow, but he said it can’t.” She strokes my arm. “I’m sorry. I know you just got home and were bombarded with a party and now a meeting.”

“It’s fine. This is what I signed up for when I accepted Augusta’s inheritance, right?”

Despite not wanting to leave the tranquility of spending time with loved ones, I break away to handle business. 

The library looks the same as before, only with different drapes on the floor-to-ceiling windows. I guess Angie didn’t want to erase the memory of Jeremiah having his last breaths of life here. It’s twisted, but she wouldn’t be the woman I love without a little crazy mixed in. The guard closes the door behind me, which pulls Emilio’s attention away from the windows. However, Sammy and Carmine continue chatting in the corner. They must have arrived not long ago and are only here for this meeting.

“Hermano.” Emilio Embraces me. “Welcome home.”

“Doesn’t feel like home yet.”

“A physical home is just a shell. The real home is in here.” He taps my chest. “So this place is whatever you want to make it, and by the looks of it, Angie has done a good job erasing the Abramovitz from these walls.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. Augusta was the only one I cared about. She was pregnant with my kid, did you know?” 

“Uh… no. I didn’t.”

“She told me one night when we were out to dinner and showed me the sonogram. I asked her to marry me, but you know Augusta. No one could tell her what to do.” He smiles at the memory. “She was crazy, but I loved it. My friends say the pregnancy hormones are what made her go after Jocelyn the way she did. Maybe they’re right. Maybe not.”

“It was a tragedy what happened to her.”

“But it’s life. It keeps moving forward. Yours will, too.” He shifts to shake hands with Bernard. “Good to see you, my friend.”

“Thanks for coming,” he says.

“So, what’s up?” I ask. “What is so urgent that we’re letting our prime rib turn cold.” 

“Let’s head upstairs,” he says, so we follow him in a small procession to the second level, where I tossed Jeremiah’s ass over the railing. 

I still don’t regret it.

There’s a large table with scattered paper and a giant map on an easel with lines drawn across it and color codes representing the territories. Bernard positions himself in front of it like we’re about to have a board meeting, and he’s the guest speaker. 

“So, as you know,” he begins to explain. “Sammy and Emilio are working together so that Rohan can’t grow his alliances, but the man continues to rise in politics while having the hellions work for him. There are rumors that Rohan wants to run for Governor next.”

“The politics don’t scare me.” I shake my head. “I have more money than him and can sway opinions with cash, as Augusta did.”

“Besides, Carmine has someone on the inside,” Sammy says.

“Inside of what?” I look at him.

“The Hellions.”

“That’s asking for trouble,” I say. “Pull him out.”

“No.”

“Sammy, for the love of God.” I drop my face into my hands. “Things are finally calm. If they find out, they’ll become hostile.”

Emilio nods. “He’s right.” 

“Well, we’re not pulling out our guy,” Sammy says. “Besides, he’s been in for three years.”

My jaw drops. “Three years?” 

“Yeah. How else do you think we learned about their meth labs over in the Sunset District.”

Carmine laughs, “You didn’t think the cops busting them and making arrests was an accident, did you?”

“Did you men forget I’m the peacekeeper? You made moves without my blessing. That can’t happen again.”

“Oh, come on, Miguel,” Sammy laughs, but I hold up my hand to shut him up 

“All of you agreed I have the final say before you do something that could rock the territories.” Carmine tries to interrupt, but I glare. “You made an oath. Not only did you bypass me, but you also disrespected Bernard by not honoring him as my proxy. I am home now. Don’t mistake my desire for peace as weakness ever again. You want to make a move? You come to me the way we agreed.”

“Alright.” Sammy surrenders. “We'll pull our man out.”

“Good.”

Bernard clears his throat, “Which is wise, considering the Hellions have been causing fights in bars across the city. My guess is they’re shaking the bushes to see what falls out because they suspect Emilio or Sammy infiltrated them.”

“Fucking hell.” I facepalm myself. “This is the shit I didn’t want.”

“Nothing is ever going to be perfect,” Emilio says. “I know you want peace so you can live your life, but that’s not what you signed up for. The streets were built for war.”

“That brings me to the second thing,” Bernard says, and we swing our attention to him. “Our scouts think Jocelyn is working on a comeback. One of them spotted her.”

“Where?” we all ask.

“In Vegas.”

“Vegas?” I repeat.

“She’s keeping a low profile but is rebuilding herself there, and she keeps tabs on what’s happening here through Rohan, according to our sources.”

“Of course she would,” I say. “She won’t stop until she takes back what Augusta gave me.”

“So, what are we waiting for?” Emilio says. “Let’s kill that fucking cunt.”

Bernard nods. “I called Lucas to check it out, but he was already there.”

"Already there?” I furrow my brows.

“He’s looking for his little sister, Mara. She went there on a work trip and is missing.”

“Missing? That’s not good. I remember her from Penthouse. She was a go-go dancer for a bit.” I rub my chin, thinking. “Lucas helped us while I was in prison.”

“He did,” Bernard agrees.

“Let’s put together two teams. One to find Jocelyn and another to help Lucas find Mara. A bonus check for everyone when the jobs are done.”

“I want the honor of killing her,” Emilio says.

“Then you have my blessing.”

The meeting concludes with us agreeing to get our men together next week to develop a plan for the Las Vegas trip, and I spend the rest of the day enjoying the company of my family and friends.

The moon comes up, and one by one, guests go home, leaving me to sit in the quiet of the mansion for the first time. My old apartment had a constant percussion of sirens and car horns, and even in prison, there was always some disturbance, but here only crickets chirp. I finish a cigarette on the patio, my legs stretched with one ankle crossed over the other and exhale.

I'm free.

“Are you coming up?”

My attention darts to the third-level balcony, where Angie stands in a gauzy nightgown, the light from the bedroom shining through it and teasing the silhouette of her curves. 

“Yeah.” I stub out the cigarette while blowing out a stream of smoke.

It’s funny how she kicked her nicotine habit a few years ago, and now I have one.

But now that I’m home, I should quit. 

Entering the house, I hike up the stairs, two steps at a time, removing my shirt, eager to get to Angie. However, when I reach the second level, where Ana’s room is, I hear giggling, so I stop to tap on the door. 

“Come in,” she says, and I poke my head inside. David is lying beside her on the bed—a little too comfortable. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to say goodnight…” I rub the back of my neck. “And to see if David needs a ride home since it’s late.” 

“No, he’s staying the night.” 

“Oh… um…” 

“It’s ok, Miguel,” Ana laughs. “He stays here all the time.”

David smiles. “In the morning, want to go to the pond and feed the ducks with us?”

“Yes, please, Miguel!” Ana’s face lights up. “We can show you the flamingo.”

“Flamingo?”

“Yes! It’s temporary until her wing heals. We’ve been helping her get better. You gotta see,” she says.

“Alright, I will. Good night, you two, and don’t stay up too late.”

“Miguel!” Ana playfully scolds, hands on hips. “I’m thirty-two. Not twelve.” 

“Right. Well, have a good night.”

When I reach the third level, Angie is on the bed reading a book and twirling a curly tendril around one finger, completely immersed. Daisy is snuggled at her feet, watching me, her tail wagging. I remove my pants, then hop across the room while tugging off one sock at a time. Angie acknowledges me with a glance but goes right back to her book. The mattress dips as I climb on and pluck it from her.

“Hey! I was reading that.”

“You let Ana’s boyfriend spend the night here?”

“Yeah.”

“In her room?”

Angie releases a belly laugh, “She’s a grown-ass woman, and they’ve been together for a while.”

“It’s just...”

“Awe.” Angie turns on her side and strokes my face. “Are your protective big brother instincts kicking in?”

“Our girl is growing up.” I wipe my eyes, pretending to cry.

“She’s been grown up,” Angie laughs. “And they’re great together. Ana is happy. Plus…” She takes my hands. “David asked me today if it’s ok to ask Ana to marry him.”

“What?”

“I told him to ask for your blessing first.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.” She smiles, cupping my cheek. “Ana loves you, and she told me a couple of years ago that if she got married, she’d want you to walk her down the aisle, and since you’re my husband, I think you should give the blessing for us.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” She nestles into me. “Now, can I have my book back?”

“No.”

“Yes! I was at a delicious part.”

“Oh? What was happening?”

“The couple was having sex.” She shrugs, and I clutch my imaginary pearls.

“Mrs. Gomez! I am shocked at the filth you read.” 

Angie bobs a brow. “The filthiest.”

“Is that so…” I caress her arm. “I like this silky thing you’re wearing.” 

“This old thing?”

“Yep, but I’d like it more on the floor.”

“But then I’d be naked and cold.” 

“I know.” I kiss across her shoulder and neck, shifting my body weight to hover over her, my palms pressing into the pillows.

“How are you not tired of my old saggy tits yet?”

“Old and saggy?” I slide the thin strap of her nightgown down to reveal one of her breasts and massage its fullness. “They’re perfect.”

“Perhaps you should take a look at my other perfect breast.”

“Perhaps I should.” I glide my hand down her thigh, under the silky material, and skim my fingers up to her hip while sucking her nipple. But then I stop, my gaze rising to meet hers. “Oh, Mrs. Gomez… you’re not wearing panties.” 

“No, and I’m soaking wet.” 

“Hmm, what to do…” 

“Well, you have two options. One, you give me back the book, and I reach into the side table for my vibrator. Two, you make me come instead.”

“I prefer option two.” I grin and kiss my way down her stomach. 

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

When my kisses reach her mound, Angie yanks off the nighty and flings it aside. I can feel her anticipation building as she flexes her feet at my sides, her heels digging into the bedsheets like she can’t contain her excitement. But she’s not the only one. Tasting her and pleasing her will never get old. I give a few teasing sweeps, then look up.

“Promise to love me forever?”

“Yes.”

I swirl my tongue a few more times, causing her to writhe beneath me, her soft moans releasing with each stroke. “And you'll always be loyal?”

“Of course."

“Through sickness and health?” I slip my fingers inside her and begin pulsing her G-spot. 

“Yes.” Her back arches from the bed.

“Till death do us part?” I quicken the pace of my fingers, making Angie’s thighs squeeze the sides of my head, and her words become garbled. “Yes or no, baby.”

“Yes!” she cries out. So, I return my mouth to her engorged clit, and continue pulsing my fingers inside her. “Oh, fuck… don’t stop, Miguel. Please don’t stop.”

And I don’t plan to. I keep going until she’s a puddle of post-orgasmic euphoria against the mattress, and lay down next to her gelatinous body for a cuddle.

"Love you, Mrs. Gomez."

“I love you, too, Mr. Gomez. But we’re not done.”

“No?”

“No. It's your turn.” She rolls onto me, and guides my erection inside of her.

I don't protest.

Angie begins with a slow tempo that allows her to feel every inch of me, but after a while, I grip her ass to thrust my hips upwards at a faster pace. She tuts and pins my hands to the pillows, wanting to control the rhythm. So, I let her do her thing. It’s the way it’s always been with us. From the moment we met, she was in control, but she gradually let her guard down and allowed me to lead. 

She learned to trust me.

She learned she’s safe with me.

Still, Angie wouldn’t be Angie without reminding me how easily she can have me eating out of her hand, but we both know that in a bit, she’ll let me take over to finish the orgasm for her. 

And I wouldn’t want it any other way with my psycho killer, Angelina Fucking Gomez, the love of my chaotic life and wife.

~The End~