Chapter 10 - The New King
Two years later.
The sun shone brightly over the rolling green hills of eastern Tennessee.
Emma Mercer stood on the wide wrap-around porch of a beautifully restored farmhouse, a far cry from the cold, intimidating stone mansion they had once shared. She wore a simple white sundress, her brown curls blowing softly in the warm spring breeze.
In her arms, she held a sturdy, dark-haired eighteen-month-old boy named Leo. He had his mother’s hazel eyes and his father’s serious, unyielding brow.
"Look, Leo," Emma smiled, pointing a finger down the long gravel driveway. "Look who's coming."
A sleek black SUV crunched slowly up the drive, kicking up a trail of white dust. It stopped in front of the farmhouse stairs.
The driver's door opened, and Silas stepped out, wearing a sharp suit and a massive grin. He walked around to the rear passenger door and pulled it open.
Gabriel Mercer stepped out into the sunlight.
He looked different. The expensive, dark mafia suits were gone, replaced by a pair of fitted dark jeans, a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of worn leather boots. The cold, dangerous tension that used to radiate from him had vanished, replaced by a grounded, powerful stillness.
He looked up at the porch.
He saw Emma. He saw the boy in her arms.
Gabriel stopped breathing. He took the stairs two at a time, moving with a desperate, hungry speed.
Emma met him at the top step. Gabriel didn't say a word. He wrapped his large arms around both of them, pulling his wife and his son tight against his chest, burying his face in Emma’s neck as a deep, shuddering breath racked his broad shoulders.
"You're home," Emma whispered, tears spilling onto his shirt. "You're finally home."
Gabriel pulled back slightly, looking at his son for the very first time outside the sterile walls of a prison visiting room.
Leo looked back at him, blinking his wide hazel eyes, before reaching out a chubby little hand and grabbing Gabriel’s nose.
Gabriel laughed—a genuine, loud, joyous sound that Emma had rarely heard. He took his son from Emma's arms, holding the boy up in the sunlight, tears shining in his dark eyes.
"Hello, little king," Gabriel murmured softly, kissing the boy's forehead.
He turned back to Emma, his eyes dropping to her stomach, which was noticeably rounded beneath the white sundress.
Gabriel’s smile softened into a look of absolute wonder. He reached out with his free hand, resting his large palm gently against her pregnant belly.
"A girl this time, the doctor says," Emma smiled, placing her hand over his.
"A girl," Gabriel repeated, looking at his wife, at the restored antique furniture visible through the screen door, at the quiet, safe life she had built for them while he paid his debts to society.
May you like
He leaned down and kissed her—a deep, lingering kiss full of gratitude, devotion, and unbroken promises.
"The old men called you an empty field," Gabriel whispered against her lips, his dark eyes shining with absolute reverence. "They didn't know they were looking at a garden."
