It had taken weeks, but Ivy now watched as her husband paced the kitchen, staring at his phone. They were waiting for the update from the hired guns that were in charge of killing Patrick Styles in prison. They had two men on the inside - Harry thought there could even be more inside that they weren't divulging.
They had gotten the alert this morning to expect news in the late evening. They were forced to separate and go to work at their respective jobs as to not raise suspicion. Ivy had a hard time with that, wanting to be by Harry just in case. He had been quiet since they got the notification.
This would mark the true end to this war. They would be free just as everything was falling into place. Ivy knew there would be more wars and challenges and death in the years to come. Their entire lives would be plagued with those who sought power over them. Hopefully, their alliances with the circle would be acting enough to keep them safe. For the first time in her life, Ivy believed she had people she could trust outside her family.
Their tea was getting cold on the counter, but neither of them touched the cups. They were drawn in an attempt to settle any nerves, but that proved fruitless. Ivy waked around the counter and stopped Harry.
His green eyes met hers, face stoic and unreadable to everyone but her. She reached up, cupping his face. No words were necessary, and Ivy saw her husband soften under her touch. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers, arms wrapping around her body to hold her. Ivy molded to him, one hand moving to the back of his neck, the other staying on his cheek, thumb caressing the prickly unshaved skin.
They stood in silence, embracing one another for a few minutes. Only the faint beeping from Harry's phone pushed them apart. Ivy stood by his side at the counter as he checked his phone.
A few moments of heavy silence, then, "It's done."
Harry looked at her, a weight lifted off him in an instant.
"It's done?" She repeated.
With a nod, he breathed out a laugh. It wasn't one of humor or even joy, but of relief. "We're free."
Ivy smiled, kissing him quickly. Harry devoured her, taking over instantly. Her back pressed against the counter, his large hands squeezing her sides. It didn't go any further than a kiss, but it set her skin on fire.
Patrick Styles' death meant more than just being free of threat. There was now no reason to hold back. Ivy saw a future with Harry that no one but him could have made her want. There was a large house, vacations with lazy days, kids running around with dark curls and green eyes. This was the start of a family for Ivy, a family that she could do right, love right.
Neither Ivy nor Harry would ever give their fathers an ounce of credit when getting them together. It might have been their deal, struck in the attic of her father's favorite bar, that forced them together. Harry was hers in a way that there wasn't a shred of doubt they wouldn't have found their way to each other without their father's interference.
Harry's phone rang, forcing them apart once more. With a groan, he checked it. "It's the police."
"Calling to inform you." Ivy said, wiping his lips, "Better put on a great performance."
He smirked at her, kissing her once more, then answered his phone in his normal, gruff voice, "Styles, here."
†††
"Everything okay?"
Griffin looked up from his laptop to see CeCe walking in to the living room. She was out at a dance class she had just joined, so her hair was messy, face a little flushed and she was still in her dance clothes.
"Yeah, just monitoring a few things." He said.
They had just put out a statement to the press about Patrick Styles' untimely death. Ivy had worked on it herself. He was currently checking to make sure it went out to the right people and was being covered how they needed it.
"How did your meeting go?" She asked, sitting down next to him.
"Just like it should have." Griffin sighed, shutting his laptop and turning towards her. Harry had been interviewed by the police and the task force originally responsible for charging Patrick Styles with a few white collar crimes.
"So, everything's going to calm down now?" She asked.
Griffin gave her a dubious look. "As calm as it could ever be, I guess. Why?"
He watched as a small smile graced her beautiful face. "I was thinking..."
"Yeah?" He laughed, pulling her onto his lap.
"Let's get married."
He blinked. "I thought we already were getting married?"
CeCe rolled her eyes. "I mean, let's just get it over with. I don't want some big thing. Let's go down to the courthouse and do it."
"Are you serious?" Griffin asked her.
"Unless you wanted a wedding, but..."
"No, I don't give a shit about an actual wedding." He said honestly, "I just want to be married to you."
"Me too."
His heart raced in his chest. "I have your ring. I got it yesterday and was waiting until dinner to give it to you."
The look she gave him was filled with fondness and love, and Griffin couldn't believe he was so lucky. "I love you, Griffin Carmichael."
He stood up, picking her up with him and led her to their bedroom. Thankfully, Cat was still at school, so they wouldn't be interrupted.
He threw her onto the bed and tore off his shirt. "Strip."
She did as she was told, eager to please him. Griffin walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and opened the drawer. In the back, he found the small black box. He pulled out the ring and turned back to his fiancé. She was naked, watching him closely.
"Give me your hand." He said softly.
CeCe reached out her left hand and watched as he slid on the sapphire engagement ring. Griffin swallowed his nerves as she studied it. He had it custom made for her from the same designer that did Ivy's ring. It was an oval shaped three-karat sapphire with a halo of small diamonds surrounding it.
"It's beautiful." She breathed out.
"I had it made special for you." He admitted to her, "No one else in the world will carry that on their finger."
When they fell together, his naked body joining hers, he took her slowly. Time seemed to stand still when they were making love, climaxes drawn out, highs reached over and over. One moment, Griffin was on top, thrusting into her, the next, CeCe was straddling him, rolling her hips sensually.
He flashed back to those first few times they met. The way he had nearly forgotten he was on a job while she danced for him and on him. How he had wanted nothing more than to have her, but only if she wanted him in return.
And she did. CeCe wanted him, riding him for a few orgasms that shook her entire body. When the last of his come was drained out of him and spent into her, he collapsed on top of the bed, CeCe draped over him, her ring finger directly over his heart.
The next morning, they asked Cat to stay home. They didn't tell her why and her imagination was running a little wild. It wasn't until they drove up to the courthouse, Harry and Shadow waiting for them - standing in awkward silence - did she figure it out.
"No fucking way." Cat said wildly, grabbing her sister's shoulder.
"Language." CeCe admonished.
"Are you actually doing this?" She asked.
"Yes, now will you let us walk in?"
Griffin held her hand as they filled out the paperwork. Thankfully, he knew someone who could expedite this process and within twenty minutes they were standing in front of a judge saying their vows. Harry and Shadow signed as witnesses, congratulating them.
Later that night, they exchanged their real vows and made love over and over again. Griffin swore to always love her and protect her. Cecilia promising to support and cherish him.
That day, they were officially a family, one that would grow. One that would love.
†††
Astrid walked into the manor in a tired daze. The pregnancy was making her long shifts at the hospital hard and she knew within a few months her hours would have to be cut down drastically.
She had been showing before their wedding a few weeks ago, but had hidden her belly with her dress. Now it seemed like the baby was growing rapidly and it was kind of freaking her out. It was hard to process it early on because of her fear and worry for Tai, and now it felt like she was playing catch-up.
They had moved into one of the Hayashi properties right after the wedding, his parents insisting on it. She had been nervous about it, not particularly wanting to stay under their constant surveillance, but they had left for an extended stay in Japan and had barely contacted them. Tai had personally done a sweep of the old house and found no cameras or listening devices.
It took a little bit, but she was starting to feel comfortable there. It was a gorgeous old house, filled with a lot of family history. Stuff that Tai had been slowly teaching her, since she was technically now a Hayashi, as well.
"Tai?" She called out.
Putting her purse down, she waited for his answer.
"In the kitchen!"
When she entered, she was met with a beautiful sight of Tai cooking. He walked with a little bit of a limp to the fridge to get something, but other than that, no one would be able to tell he hadn't spent his entire life missing half a leg and a hand. She was constantly amazed by his ability to adapt so quickly, almost waiting for the moment it would actually hit him.
When she had gotten Tai back, she expected things to be hard. He had lost two major parts to him, and in his line of work that was often seen as a weakness leading to death. Things were different now, though, she had to remind herself. And Tai was strong - both in body and mind.
"How are you feeling?" She asked, walking around the island and watching as he stirred a wooden spoon in a pot of something that smelled garlicky and clovey.
"You know one of these days I'm going to convince you that I'm good." Tai chuckled, "And besides, I should be asking you that."
He dropped the spoon and turned to her, placing his hand on her belly and kissed her. "How's our baby boy doing?"
She grinned. They had found out the gender by accident during the last doctor's appointment, but now that they knew it felt more real. They didn't have to keep calling him "it" anymore.
"Good." She told him, pecking him on the lips once more before getting some water. "He's making me very tired, though."
"You know you don't have to work, baby." Tai said. He had suggested quitting a few times, worried about her health and tendency to overwork herself.
She sighed, "We've been over this, Tai."
"I know." He groaned, adding in some spices to the pot of food. "I'm just worried about you being in the ER all day, on your feet, around all that-"
"Hey, I know how to keep safe." She assured him. The truth was that the ER could be dangerous. There was a higher influx than normal right now of addicts coming through after a new strain of opioids hit the streets. Tai had been working with the Dvorsky's to try and figure out who was selling in Queenstown.
"Anyways," she changed the subject, "did you see the response on Patrick Styles' death?"
"Yeah, been keeping up with it." He turned off the stove. "Looks like the investigation is heading right where Harry wanted."
Today, a few weeks after Patrick Styles death at the hands of an "inmate" in prison, it had come out that there was a lead in the case. Apparently, some new gang in London had made some bad dealings with Mr. Styles and they were exacting revenge. The case was to be handled by international agents who would focus their efforts in the UK.
"Whoever they hired had done a good job." She agreed.
The mercenaries that Ivy had told her about worked hand in hand with Harry to create a lead in a different country. A small trail of carefully strewn clues that would lead the authorities in a wild goose hunt. It would be years of finding nothing but ghosts, more leads, and a fake name on the international database for gangs.
"They've got the funeral next week." Tai said, "Did you want to go?"
"We should probably keep up-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening.
"Astrid?" Tai was alerted instantly, dropping what he was doing. "What's wrong?"
She touched her belly and waited for it to happen again.
"Baby?"
She gasped when she felt it again, tears coming to her eyes. Then, she quickly raced to Tai and grabbed his hand, placing it right next to hers.
They were silent, staring at each other until-
"Holy fuck." Tai breathed out, stepping closer to her, pressing his hand more firmly on her hard stomach. "He's kicking."
It was the strangest feeling, something moving inside her. Once again, it hit her that this was real. She was having a baby with Tai Hayashi. Someone she never was supposed to speak to, let alone fall in love with. A few months they had been arguing about keeping their affair secret or not, and now she bared a new last name and lived in one of his family homes and was carrying an heir.
"Oh god," She felt woozy.
Instantly, he picked her up and carried her to a stool to sit on. He did so with ease and a big grin on his face. Regardless of everything, she had never seen him look happier.
"I love you."
He looked up from her stomach, the surprising tenderness she saw in him that first time they met in his eyes. "I love you, Mrs. Hayashi."
She laughed, "I think he went back to sleep."
"Good." Tai dropped his smile and stepped between her legs. "Cause I'm going to show you just how much I love you now."
She smiled and then he was kissing her and touching her and after, she was finally relaxed, her limbs tingly and the feeling of him still felt all over her body. Later, she massaged his bad leg, then they made love again in their enormous bed.
†††
"Angelo, you can't wear that." Greta said dryly.
Her little brother looked down at his shirt that literally read "Ding dong the witch is dead".
He frowned, "Why not."
She rolled her eyes and pushed him back into his apartment, ignoring Dev's laughter behind her. "Because we are going to a funeral and we have to look like we're mourning."
He grimaced. "And why do we have to go again? We didn't even know the guy."
"To support Harry, dumbass." She snapped, "We may not think of Patrick Styles as our father, but he was our brother's dad and now he has to put on a performance of a lifetime, so we're going. Now change."
Angelo grumbled under his breath the entire walk back to his bedroom.
"You know," arms circled around her waist from behind, "you are so sexy when you're bossy."
She rolled her eyes again, this time at Dev. "You're pathetic."
"And you're mean." He kissed her neck. "But I like it."
Greta couldn't stop the smile. Things had been amazing with Dev. He was fun and loving and gave her many, many orgasms. They were trying to take things slow, but they had already said the "L" word and were practically spending every night together. Dev had suggested - very casually one night - that they move in together, but Greta had said it was too early.
That resolve was breaking down by the day, and, while she refused to admit it to herself, she would probably cave any day now.
She turned around in his arms. "If we don't separate, we're going to gross out Angelo again."
Dev smirked and kissed her, saying against her lips, "I really don't care."
As always, Greta was defenseless when he kissed her. She had actually gotten weaker against him since they started dating. But he was so good with his lips and tongue, and she thought he might be a witch or something, because it was like she was put under a spell every time.
"Ugh, seriously." Angelo's voice echoed from the hall behind her. "Again?"
They separated, Dev laughing. Greta cleared her throat. "Sorry."
Now all in black, Angelo swept past them. "C'mon, let's just get this over with. Maybe you two will make it through this sham of a funeral without sneaking off to go bang for once."
Greta's face went red. "Hey, don't say that shit aloud."
She followed him, Dev slapping her ass lightly as she passed. Turning around, she glared at him only to get one of his signature grins and a wink.
"Behave." She warned.
"Cross my heart." He said cheekily, making the movement over his chest.
She didn't believe him.
†††
"Patrick Styles was a flawed man." Harry said to the large crowd.
Ivy watched from the front row as her husband gave the eulogy they had both written. He stood at the pulpit, looking solemn, the dutiful, grieving son of an important man. He held himself with grace, an air of importance not unlike the man they were supposedly honoring. Harry was playing the part well.
"He wasn't perfect and he never claimed to be. But he was a husband, a father," Harry paused, looking over the room, "A pillar of this society. He had causes he cared for, a community that he loved. Queenstown was family to him just as I was. Growing up, one thing my father always taught me was to respect this community, the people, our history.
"Patrick Styles spent his entire life here. He was born in 1970. He attended Queens Public School from the age five to eighteen. He worked full time at a packing company to pay his way through college and Queenstown University. His father had always taught him the importance of earning your way through life. He met his wife, my mother, Mona DuPont while studying for his Masters degree. They fell in love."
Harry found them in the front row. Ivy was holding Mona's hand. This was the first time in years that Mona Styles was seen in public, and Harry had tried convincing her that she didn't need to come, but she had stepped up and promised to do him proud. He had confided in Ivy that he didn't know how to feel about what Mona had said to him that night.
She thought that Mona was playing the part perfectly. Stoic, as someone would expect her, but sadness shown through. Ivy wondered silently how much of this was an act for Mona. She was still a mystery to them both, although she had opened up and began her healing process recently.
"They had me. I've been told my entire life how much I look like my father, how much of him I have inside me. That drive to succeed, the determination to put out the best work and provide a stable living for my family. That always seemed like an impossible standard to me. My father was prolific and untouchable in the eyes of a young kid. To me, I could never be him.
"Yet, my father never failed to push me and support my efforts. He didn't see me as a copy of him, a clone to carry his legacy. He saw me as his son."
Ivy bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from laughing. That line had been especially annoying to write, and she had wondered if Harry could deliver it without the hatred he felt for the man, but, of course, Harry succeeded easily.
"He saw me as an equal, a kid who had become a man overnight in his eyes. Sometimes I think it was hard for him to see me so grown." Harry breathed out a fond laugh, before slowly dropping it, the somberness returning. "My father was not a perfect man. He made mistakes. Big ones. But ones that he was trying to atone for. That right was taken from him. He will never get the chance to make things right or apologize for his wrongs. He won't get to grow as a person, evolve to be better.
"He won't get to watch his wife grow older with him. He won't be able to celebrate milestones with his son or daughter-in-law. He won't get to know his future grandchildren. Those were stolen from him. Stolen from us." Harry paused, taking in a deep breath.
"I stand here today remembering Patrick Styles not as a pillar in society or a strong and flawed businessman. I stand here remembering him as my father. I will remember the talks we would have about adulthood and responsibility. I will remember him making tea in the kitchen with my mother. I will remember him introducing me to my wife, giving me the love he had found decades ago with his wife.
"Patrick Styles will be remembered for the man he was. So, please stand and follow as Father John leads us in prayer." Harry closed his notebook and gestured for the priest to take his spot. The crowd stood as he climbed down the stairs and joined them at the front.
He kissed his mom's cheek first then hugged Ivy. They put on a show, Ivy checking in with him silently, Harry nodding and kissing her lips. There was no press inside the church, but plenty of watchful eyes. A few days ago, they had reported that authorities were following the trail they had set out for them, leading them across the globe.
They spent the next thirty minutes listening to the priest speak before a smaller crowd followed Harry, Ivy and Mona out to the cemetery. They walked through the bleak terrain until they hit an older section. They watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, Harry and his mother throwing a handful of dirt in respect.
The funeral took up most of their day. They had planned for it, but Ivy still found it exhausting. She hadn't had to be in character like this in a long time. She used to be primed for this type of thing, but since marrying Harry, that tolerance had waned. She found herself being more private, attending less galas, banquets, and balls. She had all but abandoned her social media presence, and didn't miss it one bit.
That person she was before was gone. Now, in her place, stood the real Ivy. A person that didn't hide behind facades. Harry had changed her, just as she had changed him. He was now more open, willing to lean on someone other than himself. He trusted not only her, but Griffin and Dev more. He had Greta and Angelo as family, filling a void he didn't know he had. His relationship with his mother was improving, although slowly.
When they were done, they dropped Mona off at her apartment, Harry walking her upstairs. Ivy stayed in the car to give them some privacy. When he climbed back in, he looked exhausted, more mentally than physically.
"You did good today." She said quietly, brushing some hair out of his eyes.
His head lolled back on the headrest as he looked at her, letting all the pre-tenses of the day shatter. "Thank you for being there."
"I'll always be there for you, Harry." She said honestly, "Whenever you need me."
He needed her that night. He needed something real and tangible. Harry had spent the entire day pretending to be someone that didn't exist, pretending his father was someone he never had.
So, Ivy stripped down, throwing the black clothes in the hamper. Harry joined her in the shower, washing their bodies down before drying them off. They climbed onto the bed, Ivy letting Harry lead in everything. She molded to what he needed that night.
He was desperate, needing some control. She let him play her body like an instrument, flip her around and press her face to the bed as he thrust inside her. His hands gripped her hips as he immediately pounded into her. She had been so worked up, so stimulated that she came quicker than ever.
Then she was pulled up, her back arching against his chest, his hand wrapped around her throat, the other slithering down to her pussy. His lips grazed her jaw, cheek, mouth, as they writhed against each other, no words spoken, only heavy breaths and deep moans filling the silence.
Ivy felt him release inside her, squeezed his thighs in her hands as his thrusts got choppy and rough. They collapsed on the bed, sweaty and breathing hard.
Hours later, well past midnight, Ivy sat on top of him. Only the moonlight provided light, illuminating off her skin. Her hands caressed his chest, taking in his body. Harry watched her in return, hands firmly on her thighs.
"I was thinking..." They were the first words they'd spoken since they arrived home hours ago.
"Hm?" His hands traveled up to her waist and squeezed.
"Now with our fathers gone," nerves swirled in her stomach, "and we're out of immediate danger..."
"What are you thinking, darling?"
She looked him in the eyes. "Do you think it's a good time to start our family?"
Harry didn't say anything at first. Instead, he sat up, keeping Ivy tucked onto his lap so they were face to face. "You want to start our family?"
She nodded.
"You want a baby?" His hands were slowly moving over her naked skin, leaving a hot trail behind them.
"Maybe a few." She admitted. The more and more she thought about it, the bigger she wanted their family.
"A few?" He breathed out a laugh, the first of his smile appearing. "That's going to take a lot of work."
She grinned, "I think we're ready. Do you?"
"I don't think there's a better time to start." He kissed her, moving them so he was on top of her.
Her back hit the mattress and she wrapped her legs around him. She felt him against her, growing quickly. She smiled and said against his lips, "You're going to be an incredible father."
He pushed in slowly, never breaking eye contact. She stretched around him, feeling every ridge, his cock filling her completely. She breathed out, eyes fluttering for a brief moment. Then, tenderly, he pulled out and pushed back in.
"I love you." He whispered.
They worked together like magic, knowing every facet of their bodies, moving as one. Every roll of his hips was slow, but powerful. It built in a soft crescendo that edged the side of the cliff for what felt like hours.
And then they were falling. Falling over the cliff and into bliss. Falling further in love. Falling into a family that was once thought impossible by either.