What Happens At The End Of 'The Country Will Bring Us No Peace'?

​The Price of Peace is the final showdown and book three for the No Regrets crew, where the masks come off and the bills finally come due. Shane O’Brien is done playing house. He’s been living his life like a "glorified roommate" with his wife, Isla, ever since she broke their vows with her best friend's husband, but now the cold war is turning hot. While Shane finds a temporary sanctuary with Maya Cruz, Isla is weaponizing their children trying to save a marriage that might already be lost, but will she realize this too late, or burn the whole house down. Speaking of Maya, she has a few secrets of her own, one that involves Mayor Rogers and a scandal that could level the city. ​In the courtroom, Crandon Morgan is fighting to keep his name clean after a very public mental meltdown. He’s looking for a comeback, but he finds a distraction in Tempest Summers, a new law junior associate with a haunted past and a hunger for a kind of justice the law books don’t cover. ​Meanwhile, Kole Michaels is trapped in a different kind of nightmare. A past mistake named Akeisha is using a legal loophole to pin a child named Urmagisty on him. With his relationship with a different Keisha on the line and his daughter Mabel watching, Kole has to prove he’s being set up before the lie becomes his life. ​In this game, peace isn't free, you have to pay for it in blood, truth, or with everything you own.

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

After five years in a marriage without intimacy, I finally called my wife, Suzanna Jones, the youngest commander in the military, and asked her to spend the night with me. Five hundred and twenty times. That was how many times we had been interrupted over the years. Every time we came close to being together, an urgent call from her widowed brother‑in‑law, Eric Gibson, pulled her away before anything could happen. Then, on our wedding anniversary, Suzanna promised she would finally give me the perfect wedding night we never had. I held her by the waist and was about to cross the final line between us when Eric’s ringtone shattered the moment. “Suzanna… I was injured in an explosion down there. What if I am crippled for life…?” Panic filled her face. She pushed me aside and rushed for the door. I grabbed her wrist and tried to stop her. “Send him to the military hospital first.” She turned on me with anger and slapped me across the face. “Shane! Eric is seriously hurt! How can you be this heartless?” She pulled on her dress and ran out. When I caught up with her, the sight in front of me stopped me cold. The woman who once promised to give me her first night was wrapped around Eric in a position far more intimate than anything she had ever shared with me. When I asked for an explanation, she looked calm and unbothered. “Eric is in critical condition. Was I supposed to stand there and do nothing? It is not that important. If it bothers you that much, I can fix it later.” Something inside me went numb. For five years, I had been the only one trying to hold our marriage together. At that moment, I realized I was exhausted from fighting for something that had ended long ago.

When my husband once again chooses to abandon me to celebrate his true love's birthday, I finally let go. He takes his true love stargazing; I don't cause a fuss. He buys her an expensive scarf, but all I do is smile. I even tell him to buy another hat—it's pretty cold. He thinks I've finally learned to be obedient. However, he has no idea I've secretly renounced my citizenship to join Doctors Without Borders. By the time he comes to his senses, I've vanished without a trace.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches. When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly. “What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be? “Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.” Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah. She accepted it with a blush. “I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.” The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile. Hannah held the ring out to me. I did not take it. “Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway? “You wear it. It suits you.” Her face went pale. I showed her to the door. Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”