Breaking the Beast by Nicole Casey

Epilogue: Isabel

The house was a bustle of activity, with caterers, carefully supervised by Isiah, rushing here and there. I wandered from room to room, looking for a way to be helpful, but it seemed that everything was going perfectly well without me.

“Looking for something?” a low voice asked behind me. I whirled to find Jacques, looking exquisite in an expertly fitted tuxedo, leaning in the doorway. Smiling, I went to his side, and his arm immediately encircled my waist.

“Just performing some last minute checks,” I said, leaning against his solid warmth. “I want everything to be perfect tonight.”

“It will be,” Jacques assured me. “And you look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” I said, smoothing my hands down the front of my gold dress. It was far more eye-catching than my usual wardrobe, but my men had told me they liked to be able to spot me from across a room.

“I thought this was my event,” Jacques teased me. “What are you so nervous about?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” I admitted. “This is the first time I’ll see Bonita after my article came out.”

“But your article was a hit,” Jacques said, puzzled. “The presale numbers for your book are through the roof since it came out.”

I smiled despite myself. “I know, I’m just being silly.”

Smiling, Jacques nuzzled my cheek, then checked his watch. “Showtime,” he said, flashing the cheeky grin I loved so much. “Shall we?” He extended his arm, and I took it.

“Let’s,” I said.

Tonight’s event, a Halloween ball to raise funds for Jacques’ latest charitable venture, an organization that benefitted children in the foster care system in New York state, had taken far less time to fall into place than I’d thought possible. Once Jacques put his mind to something, he accomplished it in record time. I searched his face for any trace of anxiety. After all, this would be his first event since reemerging into the public world, so it would only make sense for him to be nervous, but I found none. At our insistence, Jacques had been seeing a therapist twice a week, and had been improving rapidly since his return from the hospital. He hadn’t had a panic attack in weeks.

As for me, I had experienced some nightmares in the weeks following the accident, but knowing that Luis was locked up, awaiting trial for arson and attempted murder, as well as sleeping between the warm bodies of the seven men I loved best in the world, had mostly kept those nightmares at bay.

I watched, proudly, as Jacques mingled with the guests, pausing here and there for brief conversation, never lingering for too long with one guest. One would never have guessed that this was his first social event in five years; he handled himself with expert grace.

Étienne appeared at my side. “He’s doing well,” he murmured.

“He is,” I agreed. Étienne squeezed my hand.

“You know,” he said, deceptively casual. “None of this would have happened without you.”

I scoffed. “Don’t be absurd. Jacques is strong. He would have gotten here on his own, with or without me.”

“He is,” Étienne agreed. “But you gave him the push he needed, the one none of us were able to. For that, all of us will be forever grateful.”

I beamed at him. Before I could answer, a familiar voice called my name, and Étienne slipped away. Bonita came toward me, arms expanded.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” she said, embracing me. “This is quite the mansion, isn’t it?”

“You should have seen the last place,” I joked, and Bonita laughed.

“We’ll have to have a meeting soon,” she said. “To discuss your next steps. You’re the talk of the publishing world right now; people can’t wait to see what you’re going to do next.”

“We will,” I promised her.

She looked around. “I did tell you this assignment would be life changing for you, didn’t I?” she said, eyes twinkling. I laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Bonita took my hand and squeezed it, suddenly serious. “I’m so very proud of you,” she said. “And so glad that you’re all right. When I heard what had happened, I felt so guilty—”

“Guilty?” I said, baffled. “What would you have to be guilty about?”

“I sent you on this assignment,” Bonita said. “I never imagined that it might be dangerous…”

“Bonita,” I interrupted. “Luis was crazy. He was going to snap somehow, no matter what. You had nothing to do with it.” Bonita smiled her thanks. We exchanged a few more pleasantries before Bonita went off in search of refreshment. On the stage we’d had temporarily assembled in the ballroom, the band was in full swing.

I had been in charge of the music for the evening, and I’d chosen a relatively new girl group I’d found called the Sinful Sisters. I’d been drawn by the lead singer, Ella, a tiny bubbly blonde with impressive curves and a voice that filled the room. She was killing it tonight, and I made a mental note to find her after the set to tell her so. The other two girls, whose names I couldn’t quite remember, struggled to keep up with her, casting her evil glances from time to time. I had a sneaking suspicion the band might not stay together very long, but I felt confident that Ella herself would go far.

“They are something,” my father said, quietly appearing by my side. I leaned comfortably against his shoulder. We had moved my father into his own wing of the mansion as soon as we’d all gotten settled, and I was thrilled to have him so close, to be able to make sure he was taking his medications and keeping up with his doctor’s visits. I could hardly believe the change I’d seen in such a short time. Gone were the periods of confusion and sudden fits of anger. The father of my childhood was back, and I couldn’t be more pleased. “This is quite the event.”

“It really is,” I said happily. “Jacques will be so pleased.”

“You’ll have to congratulate him for me,” my father said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay up much later. I am an old man, after all, and it’s well past my bedtime.”

I looked at him, concerned. “Are you feeling well, Papa?” I asked. He smiled a reassuring smile.

“Very well, don’t worry, dear. Just a bit tired.” He squeezed my hand. “Have I mentioned recently how proud I am of you?” he asked, and I smiled.

“I think you might have,” I said. “Twenty or thirty times today.”

“Well, it bears repeating,” he said. “You’ve created an incredible life for yourself, Isabel. It makes my heart full to see you so happy.”

Around the room, I caught the eye of each of the men who loved me: Jacques, Étienne, Bernard, Vincent, Raphael, Alexandre, and Isiah. Each of them held my gaze, eyes full of promise for the night to come. I found myself wishing for the evening to end quickly; I didn’t want to wait longer than absolutely necessary to have my men in my bed with me.

“Mine too, Papa,” I said. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be any happier.”

My father slipped quietly away as around the room, seven incredible men slowly made their way toward me, and I knew that I truly was the luckiest woman in the world.

THE END