Kiss The Villain: EPILOGUE 2

“That was fucking sick!”

Gareth punches the air as we sit in a bougie restaurant in Manhattan.

His treat.

And it’s not for me.

That statement that’s bursting with excitement is also not for me.

It’s for the third party that’s joining us for the dinner—upon Gareth’s invitation. As I said, his treat.

And he’s standing out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the smartly dressed people because he’s still wearing the hockey jersey he bought at the game earlier in the evening.

No one would refuse to let him in, though, because one of his mafia friends owns this place, and he just walked in like it’s his house.

I know I was the one who introduced him to hockey and promised to take him to his first game, but I’m starting to have regrets.

Maybe dragging him to my nephew’s college away game in New York wasn’t the best idea, because he’s been annoyingly cheerful all evening.

And it’s not because of me.

Okay, so he said he loves me and thanked me for bringing him while kissing me in the stands, but still.

And no, I don’t really hold a grudge against my nephew.

Or maybe I do, because now, he’s smiling at Gareth as he eats a bite of his food.

Kane is tall, almost as tall as me—little fucker wouldn’t stop growing up—and he has a lethal broad and muscular body, which is a product of a decade and a half of rigid hockey—and Vencor—training.

I made the decision to leave that shitshow, even if I don’t get to step a foot in my hometown and the state ever again. Aside from the mafia protection Gareth managed to summon, I made a deal with Grant. I willingly banish myself from town, and I keep his profits going. He doesn’t want to kill me anyway, not when I’m better at business than he’ll ever be.

As for Vencor, they can try. It’s impossible with the amount of security we have. Besides, New York is the Russian mafia’s turf, and they wouldn’t dare come here.

Grant also made the other families promise to stay away from me. At least, for now.

Unlike me, however, Kane wants to own that style of life. Breathe it. Drown in it, even.

You wouldn’t think he could be so cunning and intense looking at him.

He has a welcoming expression, a polite smile, and deeply unreadable light-blue eyes. Like Prince Charming or the good-looking guy next door, but like Gareth, what you see is not what you get.

Annoyingly, Kane’s also about Gareth’s age, but he’s always seemed older in mannerisms and character. Being born as Grant’s son isn’t a tragedy I would wish on anyone, but he’s passing it with flying colors.

Anyhow, he has a lot of things in common with Gareth, and it’s making me kill half a bottle of wine in no time.

I wish I had a cigarette, but my strict little monster made me quit again.

And I would rather break my own arm than hurt him with that nonsense, so cigarettes and I are officially done.

Gareth grins at something Kane says, his hand going back and forth on my thigh.

I guess that’s the only good thing about this. At least he always wants to touch me, and I mean always. Whether in public or not. It can be as subtle as right now or downright sucking my face with his mouth.

He says I charge him, so if we don’t see each other for a few days, he’s drained. Once, I was in Japan for a business deal and I had to stay for a week. On the fifth day, I found him outside the building where I was staying. In the rain, just bouncing in place and checking his phone.

Ever since then, I’ve made it my mission not to stay away for more than five days. That seems to be his absolute limit, and I do mean limit. He was visibly shaking with his pupils dilated and he looked depressed.

It’s probably unhealthy that he’s so attached to me, but I love it. I love that he loves me in this intense, all-in, no-way-out kind of way. How he can be so obsessed but also so affectionate.

And yes, he still buys me unnecessary nonsense.

But then he let me be the only one to drive his car. Not that I’m jealous of a literal car, but if the shoe fits, yes, in your face, Medusa.

No one is more important than me. I see it when his eyes brighten to this clear green color whenever he looks at me, how he smiles wide just because he knows I’m a little bit obsessed with his dimples.

It’s only fair since I also get stomachaches when he’s not around. Julian said it’s because I stopped testing his drugs, but Julian can go fuck himself.

I only did that when I didn’t care about my body. Now, I plan to live fully. For Gareth.

And I kid you not, when Julian paid me a visit for business matters and tried to convince me to pick up with testing, Gareth pointed a gun at him and said, “Good, you’re here. I’ve been fantasizing about killing you this whole time.”

I just laughed and told Julian not to be fooled by Gareth’s charming looks, because he would kill him without hesitation, so he’d better leave.

“That was a sick game,” Gareth says to Kane. “The violence was immaculate.”

I shake my head. Of course he’d like that.

“We did go a bit extra tonight,” Kane says with his usual good-boy smile. “You never played?”

“No. I was more of a football guy in high school.”

Now, I’m imagining him in tight football pants, and my cock jumps like an insatiable whore. It doesn’t help that Gareth’s hand is wrapped around my thigh, close to my dick.

Kane takes a sip of his drink. “I can teach you if you like.”

“I can do the teaching myself,” I grumble.

Gareth’s eyes light up, his fingers pausing on my thigh. “Really?”

“I used to play, remember? And I was way better than Kane.”

“I wouldn’t say way better,” Kane interjects with a grin.

I glare at the little fuck. “Worlds apart better.”

“Whoa, relax, Uncle.” He lets out a laugh. “I’m not going to steal your boyfriend.”

“That’s implying you could.” I wrap a hand around Gareth’s nape and rub the skin.

He immediately melts in my grip, gulping down his bite of food.

“I must say I’ve never seen this version of Uncle. What did you do to him, Gareth?”

“Lots of voodoo and a tiny bit of knives and Tasers.” My little monster grins, looking so smug and proud of himself.

He loves hearing others say I’m different when I’m with him.

Often, he’ll ask Simone and Jethro with a wide grin, “So you said he was so grumpy before me? Like absolutely insufferable? Tell me more.”

The rest of the dinner is spent in relative peace. Before he leaves, Kane asks for my cooperation with his plans within Vencor.

He’ll bring me back, he says.

But I don’t want to go back. A place that doesn’t accept me and my man is not for me.

However, I give Kane the green light to proceed with what he has in mind.

He’ll be all right.

I think.

When it’s time to drive home, Gareth says he wants to walk. He loves that now—just walking outside. Mostly because he likes holding hands and hugging me in public.

Must be because of all those times he couldn’t do it when we had a secret relationship. I don’t really care for PDA, but I’d do anything for Gareth. If people are uncomfortable, they can kindly go fuck themselves.

He used to be so peevy about touching me outside of sex, but now, it’s second nature.

We’re getting closer to where I want to take him, but he’s underdressed in the damn jersey. I give him my jacket and wrap it around his shoulders.

“I’m not that cold.” He sways on his feet, a bit drunk, as he grins up at me. “But I don’t mind ogling your huge muscles. Mmm.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Pfft. You love it when I’m a brat.”

“Your ass will love it, too, later.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

A jolt zaps through my chest and ends in my stomach whenever he says that.

I grab his hand and drag him with me to stop my erection from growing further.

“Maybe we should take a taxi.” He bites his lower lip. “I want to show you something in private.”

“I want to show you something first.”

“What…?” His eyes light up with intrigue, excitement, and overflowing affection.

“I’m rethinking it because you have someone else’s name on your back.”

He stops by the sidewalk, forcing me to do the same.

Gareth’s cheeks, even his freckles, are red from the alcohol, and when he frowns with that face, he looks fucking adorable.

I can’t devour him yet.

Not yet.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Kane’s jersey that you bought.”

He removes my jacket, then turns around on unsteady feet, and I grab his arm to keep him standing.

He points back.

“Can’t you see? It says Davenport.” He taps his shoulder and then spins around again to face me. “Last I checked, that’s your last name.”

“So you bought it to have…my last name on your back?”

“Why else?” He cocks his head to the side and then grins. “I’ve always wanted that. Your last name on me.”

Fuck.

That’s why he looked so exhilarated when he bought the jersey.

I grab him by the waist, all but dragging him with me because he can’t keep up.

Gareth chuckles, the sound of his laughs echoing in the air as I pull him.

“Mmm, are you taking me to an alley so I can choke on your cock?”

“Quiet, Gareth.”

“I would. I so would.”

“Baby, you need to stop tempting me.”

“But I want you to fuck me while I’m only wearing the jersey with your last name.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I stop and brush my lips to his, the slightest touch. “Shut up for a second.”

He blinks up at me, then smiles. “You know you want to.”

“I do, but first look around.”

He blinks again and then studies our surroundings. It’s a house we passed by before, though calling it a house is putting it lightly. It’s a goddamn mansion by the hill, overlooking the city.

Gareth once said it was the perfect house, close enough to the city and his parents while also being a stone’s throw away from the rest of his friends’ future residences.

And while he insists on finishing his law degree on the island where his friends are and I can work from the London branch, he’ll eventually want to come back.

That is, if he doesn’t switch gears soon.

At any rate, this is his home. Our home.

Gareth steps into the lit garden, along the pool, his eyes widening. “You bought this?”

“For you.”

“Just because I said I liked it?”

“A perfectly good reason to.”

“But it wasn’t for sale.”

“Anything is for sale if I decide to buy it.”

“I’m not even surprised.” He smiles at me and then continues exploring the area. “Love this so much. We can get Moka a few siblings. I can set up an archery range, and you can use the pool for your morning swims. Is there another one indoor⁠—”

His voice catches when he turns around and finds me on one knee. I’ve never been on my knees for anyone else. I asked Cassandra to marry me over coffee as if it were a business deal. And it was, in a sense. We toasted to it and that was that.

But this is different.

Gareth is the only one I’d get on my knees for.

“W-what’s going on…?” he whispers, his eyes widening and red creeping up his neck.

“I know you said you don’t believe in marriage, and you can say no if you truly hate it, but you also said you love my last name on you, so…” I reach into the pocket of my pants and pull out a ring with his name and mine carved on the inside. “I love you in ways I thought were impossible, and I want to spend the rest of my life being yours and you mine. Gareth Anthony Carson, would you marry me?”

“Fuck, oh fuck…” He drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing my hand in both of his, softly, with reverence.

He’s breathing so harshly, he’s almost panting.

“You’d marry me?” he asks in a murmur. “You’ll give me your last name?”

“There’s nothing I want more in the world, baby.”

“Kayde, fuck…yes…yes…it’s a goddamn yes.”

“Thank fuck.” I slip the ring on his finger and kiss his hand, and he shivers, my little monster, vibrating, against me.

“Do you have another ring?” he asks with glittery eyes.

I nod and drop the matching ring in his palm.

Gareth slides it on my finger, then holds my hand, and grins. “It looks beautiful.”

“It’s the only ring I’ll wear for the rest of my life, baby.”

“Fuck…I need you…” He’s about to kiss me but then stops. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I want to show you. My proposal commemoration gift.” He fumbles with the sleeve of the jersey and then lifts it to his elbow.

My eyes widen.

Where the scars from the knife slashes once marred his skin, a new tattoo now takes their place.

A skull is inked into the flesh, its hollow eyes staring back at me with a chilling intensity. Coiled around the jagged bone is a snake, eerily similar to mine, its sleek body threading through the cracks of the skull as if it’s alive, writhing just beneath the surface.

The ink is fresh, the bold black lines still vivid against his skin, cutting through the old scars like a defiant, permanent declaration. Above it, etched with stark finality, are the words ‘My Villain K.D.’ Each letter is a bold, raw shout of devotion.

“I know you always hated those scars.” He smiles. “So I carved them out and replaced them with something deeper that only we can understand.”

“You hid them for me?” I ask in a low voice.

“For us. So we can kill the past and just be us. I promise to never hurt myself again, and you already promised to never hurt me again.” He kisses my forehead, my eyes, my cheek. “This is our new beginning.”

“Now, I’ll have to get some clichéd tattoo with your name on me.” I pull his arm and kiss around the tattoo.

“Then I’ll get one with your full name, too. We should do it together. Be clichéd as fuck because, who cares? We’ll be married anyway.”

I hum against his throat. “You’ll be my Mr. Davenport?”

His eyes ignite like fire. “Hell yes. Mr. and Mr. Davenport sounds hot as fuck.”

“I like that. A lot, actually.”

“Me, too. Just thinking about you as my husband is getting me all kinds of hot and bothered.”

“I’ll have to take care of that immediately. Can’t let my husband struggle, now, can I?”

He slams his lips to mine, and I carry him in my arms toward the start of our new life together.

As husband and husband.

Villain and monster.

Two fractured souls that fit perfectly.

Gareth is the reason and the madness.

The chaos and the calm.

The love of my goddamn life.

THE END

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