One Last Twist
Rowan’s POV
The party had been perfect.
Too perfect.
Remi was laughing with Jo. Cedric was giving a half-drunken speech about how he was the best mafia-grandfather alive. Laura had confetti in her curls, and Larry kept sneaking pieces of cake when he thought no one was watching.
Then the music cut.
A high-pitched whine took over the speakers. Heads turned. Guests froze. That’s when I saw her—framed in the doorway like a ghost that refused to stay buried.
Gigi.
Hair disheveled. Eyes glassy. Makeup smeared with madness.
And in her arms—our son.
My son.
He couldn’t have been more than two, bundled in a blue jumper that matched the shade of my old college jacket. His arms flailed happily like he didn’t understand what the thick belt of blinking wires across his chest meant.
“Don’t move,” Gigi said, her voice sharp and wild. “Nobody. Move.”
People gasped. Someone dropped a glass. I stepped forward instinctively, but she raised her free hand, revealing a remote with a blinking red button.
“Ah-ah, Rowan,” she hissed. “You move, he dies.”
Remi covered her mouth. I saw the scream she didn’t let out.
Callum was already slipping behind the dessert table. Good. I needed him exactly where he was.
“Gigi,” I said slowly, my hands raised. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t tell me what I have to do!” she snapped. “You ruined me! You humiliated me! You froze my accounts and made me beg!”
She looked down at the boy in her arms.
“You took everything, Rowan. So now I take him.”
“He’s your son too,” I said, voice low. “You don’t want to hurt him.”
She tilted her head. “Don’t I?”
Her finger hovered over the button.
Callum gave me the faintest nod from the corner of my eye. He was in position.
“Gigi,” I said louder. “You want me? Fine. Take me.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Take me instead. Leave him. Leave the boy.”
Behind her, I saw Remi inching toward the wall—trying to shield Laura and Larry with her body.
“I don’t care about you anymore,” Gigi hissed. “But I want you to hurt.”
She took a step forward. Callum was crouched low now, hidden by the gift table, inching closer to her side.
“Gigi…” I said softly, inching forward too. “You remember what my in-law told me once?”
She blinked, confused.
“He said never waste time.”
And I turned.
Pulled the gun and shot at her
The room erupted.
Gigi screamed.
Callum lunged forward, snatched the remote from her hand, and disarmed it in three heartbeats.
People were crying. Cedric ran to restrain Gigi before she could do anything else, tackling her to the ground. Officers rushed in—someone had already called security when the music first cut.
But I didn’t hear any of that.
I was already on the ground, holding Remi.
Her chest was rising. She was breathing so hard. Scared. I held her close. As she tried to calm herself.
“You shot her,” she gasped, eyes wide, confused and faintly amused.
“I had to,” I whispered, cupping her cheek. “One thing I learned from your father is that…Never to waste time.”
This made her laugh, “You called him father in law.”
I shrugged. She laughed again, tears streamed down her cheeks. I knew it was from the adrenaline. The trauma of everything that happened. It was enough to make her cry and laugh. Emotions.
I kissed her forehead, over and over.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Cedric was dragging Gigi away, kicking and screaming, blood on her mouth from biting him. The child—our son—was being held by Callum now, away from the chaos.
“She’s alive,” Cedric called over his shoulder. “The bullet went cleanly through her shoulder. But she’ll rot in jail.”
I nodded, cradling Remi tighter.
And then I heard them.
“Daddy!”
Laura.
“Daddy!”
Larry.
They ran toward me and Remi, clutching us both. I wrapped my arms around all three of them—my future, my life, everything I almost lost.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “All of you.”
Outside, the flashing lights of the authorities bathed the mansion in blue and red.
Inside, it was chaos, people crying, sirens still ringing in the distance, officers taping off parts of the room. But my world was here. In my arms. In the way Remi clung to me despite the pain, blood on her shirt, trembling, but alive. In the way Laura and Larry sat beside her like her own little guards, refusing to leave her side. In the way our son—my son—looked up at me from where Callum held him, eyes wide and innocent, untouched by the madness Gigi brought in.
I held them all tighter.
I had planned something else tonight.
Lights. Music. The garden lanterns were still glowing faintly outside, untouched by the madness. Rows of warm bulbs strung above the old oak trees, fairy lights wrapped around the walkway Remi was supposed to stroll through blindfolded, led by the twins. There was even a little band waiting by the hedge, confused and unsure what had gone wrong.
Everything had gone wrong.
And still—I had her.
She sat on the sofa now, her arm bandaged hastily by one of the guards trained in field medicine. Her skin pale, a little sweaty, but her spirit? Still whole.
She kept her eyes on me, even as Cedric checked her pulse again, muttering about blood loss and how if had injured her wrist even harder than now, I’d have been carrying a body tonight instead.
But she smiled. Through the pain. Through it all. She smiled at me like she knew. Like she trusted me.
I didn’t deserve it—but I would earn it.
“Hey,” I said softly, walking toward her. Everyone was quiet now, letting the room settle.
She tilted her head, trying to sit straighter. “Hmm?”
I crouched in front of her, ignoring the sting in my knees. Reached into my back pocket.
Pulled out the velvet box.
“Better now than never right?”
There was a soft gasp behind me—Callum. Jo. Even Cedric who muttered, “Oh, he’s really doing it.”
The twins looked confused for a second, then their eyes widened.
“NOW?” Laura whispered, excited.
“NOW!” Larry nodded fiercely.
I didn’t look at anyone but her.
“The first time I met you, you were love struck, we got married but it was awful, and…well you hated me,” I said, and the room fell silent again.
“You rolled your eyes. You called me arrogant. You looked at me like I was one of those men who had never done a single good thing in his life—and maybe, back then, you were right.”
Remi blinked, lips parting.
“But then something happened. You started seeing me, and I started becoming someone I wasn’t ashamed of. I was still broken. Still angry. Still haunted by everything they did to me. But you…” I swallowed. “You held me through all of it. You never looked away, even when I pushed you.”
Her hand trembled as she reached for mine.
“I’ve lost a lot. I’ve made mistakes that haunt me every day. But if I can fix even one thing in this life, let it be this, loving you the right way. Being better for you. For them.” I glanced briefly at the kids, then back to her. “For us.”
I opened the box.
The ring was simple. No giant stone. Just a sleek silver band wrapped with tiny sapphires. Because she once told me she liked stars more than diamonds. Because blue always made her feel safe.
“I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life,” I whispered. “I want your laughter in our kitchen. Your books on our shelf. Your name on everything I own.”
My throat tightened. “Remi, will you marry me?”
Tears slid down her cheeks. She let out a laugh—a soft, disbelieving laugh—then nodded.
“While this is a crazy time to have this but…yes,” she said, voice thick. “Yes, yes, Rowan Vaughn. You crazy bastard. Yes.”
The room erupted.
Cedric coughed loudly, muttering something about “finally.” Jo clapped. The twins screamed, throwing confetti someone had brought out of nowhere.
I slipped the ring onto her finger, kissed her hand, and leaned up to kiss her lips. Gently. Carefully. Like she might fade if I touched too hard.
But she kissed me back like she wasn’t scared. Like we had time. Like this
was just the beginning.
“I’ll never hurt you again,” I murmured against her lips. “Never.”
“You better not,” she whispered, brushing her forehead to mine. “Or I’ll shoot you next time.”
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