King of Masters by Brynn Ford

EPILOGUE

Murphy

THREE YEARS LATER

“WHAT DO YOU think?” I hear Stella say from the kitchen as I round the corner.

“Pretty, Mama!”

I move past the kitchen island, crossing in front of the sunlight which bathes us from the long expanse of windows and sliding glass doors. We’re finally settling into our new home in the Irish countryside, built to Stella’s specifications perfectly.

Liquidating the O’Shea estate had been made part of the immunity deal I’d struck with the authorities, so we’d had to leave our castle home behind. Our family lost nearly everything—except for the money I’d secretly set aside prior to turning myself over to the authorities.

I’d put aside accounts for Stella, for Declan, my parents, and for Fiona. Cormac and Tally had dissociated themselves from us long before, and the last I knew, they were living off her family’s fortune.

My mother bought a modest seaside home, and Boyd is with her, along with their in-home nurse. As a part of my own immunity deal, I’d insisted on Boyd’s immunity from the crimes he committed in his tenure as the Head of House, as well. Given his old age and how his health has affected his mind, I doubt any judge or jury would see reason in prosecuting him now, anyway.

His health had started deteriorating a long time ago. Dementia had taken hold of him, which was only fortunate in the sense that it allowed me and Stella to close so many of our factories early on without interference. It was unfortunate in every other way and in every sense of the word.

I suppose he’d told my mother at one point that he’d wanted to be near the ocean, so that’s where they are as his condition worsens. We visit them every so often, but the nurse in residence with them is paid well and cares enough for both of them that we don’t have to worry too much.

Fiona has a small home a few kilometers from ours. She has enough money to go wherever she wants, but she’s chosen to remain close to us. I promised her a long time ago that I would make sure she’s taken care of, and I’ve held good on that promise. Stella had become a sort of big sister figure in her life, and they’ve grown closer over the years. She’s living independently and enjoying her life, but we’re happy to see her often.

And Stella and I are here, in this perfect home she’s created for us. Her eye for aesthetics translated to more than just tattoo artistry. Our comfortable home is modern and bright, with sunlight peeking in wherever you turn. It makes sense to have a home with so many windows when you have a view like ours.

Our land is so much like the castle grounds, though still unique in its own right. The back of our home opens atop a large, grassy hill that gently slopes downward, opening to a field of blue and purple wildflowers. We often picnic in that field beneath the oak tree in the distance.

“What’s pretty?” I ask as I grab Stella’s neglected cup of coffee from the kitchen island and bring it over to her at the table.

“Thank you.” She smiles at me, taking the mug. “Take a look, Daddy.”

Fuck, it kills me when she calls me that. It makes my chest swell with pride and my heart pound with joy for the family Stella’s made for us—and it makes my dick throb with the need to show Stella my undying gratitude for all of it.

My sweet little lass raises her hand to show me. On the back of it, Stella’s drawn a purple rose. “Pretty flower,” Molly tells me, pride glowing on her perfect pink cheeks.

Our daughter is just over two years old now and has enough attitude in her little toe to rival Stella. She’s loud, ferocious, determined, every bit the definition of what you’d expect as a “terrible two,” and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Stunning, my love.” I grab her tiny hand and bend to place a kiss on the rose that matches mine, that matches Stella’s.

“Kiss, Daddy,” Molly says, making a kissy face at me. I give her a quick peck on the lips, and she smiles proudly.

She could ask me for the moon and I tear it down from the sky for her. She humbles me. She makes me proud. She frightens me and makes me understand myself in ways I never thought I could.

From the moment she was born, I saw in her the face of every girl I’d ever trafficked, every girl I’d ordered to be stolen away and sold, every girl who lost their life at my hands.

That understanding had broken me for a while. I’d been depressed for much of Molly’s first year, and it wasn’t easy for me to heal. I still struggle with it from time to time, but the guilt is at least manageable now. I might’ve crumbled under its crushing weight if it hadn’t been for Stella.

I look at my wife and see all the good in the world. This woman, this perfectly imperfect woman saw me through the worst of it and stuck by me through it.

She had every reason to run, yet she stayed. She could’ve taken Molly from my life and gone to live anywhere she wanted. She was the only one of us who could access the money I’d set aside for her, but she didn’t take it and run. She stayed by my side, forgave me for the villain I was, and every day she celebrates the man I’m learning to be.

Her love is healing me, and I won’t ever take that for granted.

“You ready to go? Josh and Cora’s flight should be landing soon. I want to get to the airport early so I can hold up this embarrassing sign I made for her.” She pushes back from her chair and stands, picking up a piece of poster board from the table, and holds it in front of her. “Do you like it?”

WE DON’T SERVE ASSHOLES, it reads.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Don’t you think that’s a tad inappropriate?”

“Absolutely not.” She grins. “Cora’s opening up a second shop in two months, so she needs another sign.”

Bailey walks by, on her way to the water bowl, and Molly slips from her seat at the table to waddle after her.

“Are you disappointed we couldn’t go back to New York?” Part of my deal requires me to stay in the country—I’ll never be able to travel outside of Ireland again.

She sets the sign down and reaches for me, dragging me into her arms. “No, not at all. Maybe there’s some part of me that misses the city, but as happy as I was there, it was never home. It never could be. I have to be with you to be home.”

I sigh, stroking my hand down the back of her hair. “You’re too good for me.”

“Oh, I know,” she smiles, “but the sex makes up for it.” She winks and lets me go, turning like she’s just gonna walk away from me after that.

I grab her hips and pull her arse back against my cock, turning her and pressing her forward against the island counter. I brush her hair back over her shoulder and lean in close, kissing her cheek.

“I think I have some making up to do later, don’t I, sweetheart?”

“With Cora and Josh staying with us? That would be quite the welcome for them to hear me screaming your name, wouldn’t it?” She mimics me with her terrible rendition of my Irish accent, “Don’t you think that’s a tad inappropriate?”

I reach down to pinch her arse cheek and she yelps. “They won’t hear a thing if I gag you properly.”

Her back arches. “Shit.”

Something soft hits my leg. “I save you, Mama!”

I look down to see Molly brandishing her toy foam sword, pulling it back and preparing to hit me with it again.

“I save you from dragon!”

“That’s right, little princess, kick his ass,” Stella encourages.

“Kick it!” Molly yells as she hits me again.

I turn with a snap and roar like a dragon. She screams and giggles, but she doesn’t run away, not my little girl. She turns the foam sword, angles it upward, and stabs it into my stomach.

“You got me!” I yell, dramatically dying, slowly dropping to my knees before tumbling sideways on the floor.

“Double tap,” Stella tells her. “You make sure that dragon is dead.”

I try to hide my ridiculous grin, but it’s pointless to try. As Molly drives a final, fatal blow to my stomach, an odd memory creeps inside my mind. It’s a memory from my childhood, in one of our factories, though I can’t tell which one. I remember giving a butterscotch candy to a girl, handing it to her through bars that locked her in…then there was a conversation with my dad.

“What do you know about sacrifices?”

“I heard that word in a movie. They were talking about taking a princess to a cave and leaving her there as a sacrifice for the dragon. They said it would keep him away from the village for another year and keep everyone safe.”

“Right. It’s like that. Our clients are like dragons, and we have to sacrifice a few princesses to keep them away from our villages. We sacrifice others to save ourselves. We feed the monsters to provide for our family.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to my family.”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you for saving us from the dragons, princess.”

The memory makes me shudder. I was groomed to be a villain from the day I was born. Our clients were no more monstrous than we were. We were the monsters, lying to ourselves, pretending our family was more valuable than any other.

The so-called princesses we sacrificed didn’t go willingly to their deaths; they didn’t do it to serve some greater purpose. They did it because we forced them, because we accepted that it was their responsibility to satiate the beastly men of this world. We sentenced them to die, not knowing what they were truly made of or who they were truly meant to be.

Who could they have been if they’d had their lives, their freedom?

Having Molly has taught me what a princess truly is. She’s not just the daughter of a king and queen, she’s every little girl who was ever born into this cruel world.

A princess is a warrior, a fighter, a survivor.

A princess is a queen waiting to rule.

And my little girl is a princess who will someday set this world on fire with her mother whispering encouragement every step of the way.

The doorbell rings.

“You slayed the dragon!” Stella cheers.

I peek one of my dead dragon eyes open to watch them both raise their arms above their heads and jump up and down cheering. Then Stella reaches her hand over my body and Molly takes it.

“Now step over that dead dragon daddy, toss your hair, and sashay away.”

I roll onto my back and open my eyes to watch both my girls walk away with their heads held high. Neither of them need a man in their life, yet they both choose to love me. And I’m fucking humbled.

I climb to my feet as Stella opens the door and greets Declan, here to watch Molly for a bit while we head off to the airport to pick up Cora and Josh.

“Who is this?” Stella asks with a high-pitched curiosity in her tone.

I come upon them to see Declan lift Molly from the floor to give her a hug, but there’s someone behind him. I move quicker toward them, immediately protective to see a man I don’t know at my home.

“Right, who is this?” I ask Declan.

“Good to see you too, mate.” Declan smiles. “I take it your wife forgot to tell you I was bringing Kiernan along to meet you.”

Kiernan. Declan’s new boyfriend, who I know very little about. I did run a background check on him when they first started dating a few weeks ago, but otherwise, I know very little about him.

Stella opens the door wide to let them in and Kiernan smiles as he reaches out a hand in greeting. “Good to meet you.”

I shake his hand. “Likewise.”

“Uncle Declan, who’s that?” Molly asks.

He shifts her to sit on his hip. “That’s my boyfriend, Kiernan.”

“You got a boyfriend?”

“I sure do.”

“We won’t be too long,” Stella tells them. “Molly just ate lunch but will probably want a snack before we get back.”

“Go on,” Declan says. “I know where everything is.”

“I just need to get my sign and my purse, and we can go.”

I stare Declan down as Stella gathers her things. “I don’t know him.” I point at Kiernan. “You watch him with my daughter.”

“He has three nieces, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Declan, eyes like a hawk.”

“Murphy, arse out the door.” He grins. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

Stella breezes through, stopping to give Molly a quick snuggle and kiss. “They’ll be fine,” she says. “Come on, Daddy.”

I bend to kiss Molly on the head. “You keep your eye on them,” I tell her.

“Okay, Daddy.” She giggles.

I smile at her because I see the mischief sparkling in her dark brown eyes—just like her mother’s.

Eventually, I tear myself away from the little beauty and head to the car, climbing inside the driver’s side, Stella already in the passenger seat.

“Did you forget to tell me he was bringing his new boyfriend?”

Stella scrolls on her phone, staring at the screen to avoid my eyes. “Um…did I forget to tell you? Or did you forget that I told you?”

“Don’t play that game with me.”

She grins. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Oh, look!” She turns her phone toward me, leaning closer to show me. “Anya posted a new video.”

Stella thinks it makes me feel good to watch her videos on social media—clips of her and Ezra dancing, often with their children—but truthfully, it’s a reminder of all the women who didn’t get lucky like they did. It makes me think of all the women who didn’t get a chance at life because of me…they didn’t get a chance at love because of me.

I feel her eyes on me as my smile fades. Some days it’s harder than others to ignore my guilt and keep the evidence of it off my face.

“Baby, look,” she says as she lets the clip replay. “Look how happy they are. You did that. She’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“And she might’ve suffered a lot less if—”

“If what? It’s not your fault what she went through. Yes, you did some terrible things, but that’s not who you are anymore. It was never really you.”

I turn my head to look at her, searching her deep, beautiful eyes. She puts her phone down in the cup holder and turns to face me, climbing onto her knees on the seat and grabbing my cheeks.

“I love you. I love all of you. Your past, your present…our future. I need you to find a way to make peace with yourself. We’ll keep working on it together, okay?” She smiles.

The same smile spreads across my cheeks, mirroring hers. It’s impossible to be unhappy when she glows so radiantly with forgiveness and love.

“Show me the video again.”

She shakes her head, but her smile doesn’t fade. “I’ll show you the next one she posts. I have a better idea to lift your spirits before we head to the airport.”

“Oh?” I lift my eyebrows in curiosity.

“Let’s drive to that little spot we found in the trees at the edge of our property. We can park there, and I can fuck you in the backseat.”

“Only if you let me get filthy as fuck with you.” I start the engine, put the car into gear, and turn it around in the driveway.

She quickly settles in her seat.

“I would expect nothing less from you, Daddy.”

“Tease.” I grin.

“Asshole,” she plays.

“You’d better tear up that fucking sign because you’re about to serve this one.”

“How about you tear me up instead?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I promise you, I will.”

I turn to look at her in time to watch a bright smile spread across her cheeks. “I love you so damn much, Murphy O’Shea.”

I slam the brakes right there in the driveway, reach over to stroke my hand down the back of her head, and tug her close. With a sigh of gratitude, I rest my forehead against hers.

“I will never stop loving you,” I tell her.

And I never did.