“You deserved hell the moment you stopped being the girl with the cockroach and started being the woman who tried to replace me.” She jerked her head toward me, eyes wide, blood vessels blooming red.
“So that’s it?” she hissed. “You don’t care anymore?”
I straightened my spine.
“No,” I said simply. “I no longer have interest. Leslie. Zoraya. Whatever the hell you’re calling yourself these days… I outgrew you.“>
She screamed as they yanked her back. Her voice echoed off the stone walls like a ghost choking on its own hatred.
Dominik’s fingers slipped into mine. “She’s broken,” he murmured.§
“She’s already buried,” I replied.§
We turned together. The sun was starting to set over the water. The world hadn’t ended. Not yet.”
But tonight? I was going to finish what others only had the stomach to start.}
The chaos in the hall was fading like the last crackle of a wildfire. The air hung heavy with disbelief, like the kind you feel when the world shifts under your feet and you know nothing will ever be the same. I watched as the medic knelt beside Zeus, his hands trembling, face pale under the harsh white lights.
I didn’t need to see the truth. I already knew.
He’s gone,” I said, voice steady, cold as ice. “Take him out. Not through the front.“}
The room seemed to hold its breath, like the entire city was waiting on my next move. I turned to the guards with the precision of a general.
“Clean the aisle. And get me a new veil. I’m not wearing blood down the aisle. Not again.”
There was a murmur that swept the crowd–soft, uncertain. A woman’s voice cracked, “He died for her…“>
I looked out over them, the powerful, the curious, the scared. Their eyes darted between me and the shadow of the man who’d just been carried away.
The truth was brutal. But the truth was mine to own.
“The show must go on,” I said, voice slicing through the silence like a blade. “He died clinging to the past. I’m marrying the future.“}
A silence deeper than any before settled over the room. Zeus’s body was pulled out quietly, wrapped in black velvet like a dark promise no one wanted to witness.
Dominik’s eyes found mine. His hand brushed mine lightly, that subtle, unyielding grip I knew so well.
“Still want this?” His voice was low, calm–like the tide before a storm.”
I met his gaze without hesitation. “Now more than ever.”
The guests gasped, a ripple of shock running through the crowd. But no one moved. No one dared walk away. The ceremony had become a warzone where every breath was defiance.}
When we finally faced each other at the altar, the weight of the moment pressed down hard. But I stood tall, the embodiment of a queen draped in ivory and steel.
I looked him in the eyes and spoke from the place no one could touch.
“I vow to love you like a kingdom–brutal, loyal, and never surrendering.”>
Dominik’s voice was steady, an anchor in the storm.”
“I vow to be the man who never makes you choose between power and love. I bring both.”
For a moment, the world held still. The future was ours–dark, dangerous, and drenched in blood. And I? I was ready to claim it all.
SIX MONTHS LATER…
The sunlight hit my face like a soft whisper, filtered through the linen drapes of our penthouse bedroom. I didn’t open my eyes yet. I didn’t need to. I could feel his hand–warm, possessive–resting against the inside of my thigh, his breathing slow and steady at my back. And under my pillow?!
My Glock. Fully loaded. Safety off. Just the way I sleep best.
Dominik stirred behind me, his lips brushing the back of my neck. “You’re awake,” he murmured, voice still thick from sleep.
“I am,” I whispered, fingers tracing the faint scar above his wrist. “And no one’s dead. Must be a peaceful morning.”
He chuckled softly, rolling to his side. “We should fix that.”
I smiled and finally opened my eyes.
A knock came at the door, tiny and rapid.
Then came the voice–light, hopeful, and sweet: “Mommy?”
Dominik was already sitting up, the sheets pooling at his waist. I pulled on his dress shirt from last night, the silk still smelling like his cologne and gunpowder. “Come in, baby.””
Our boy padded in, barefoot in his little navy pajamas, bedhead in full rebellion. His eyes lit up the second he saw us.
Chapter 26
10:19 AM
“You promised,” he said, climbing up the bed, face serious like his father’s when he’s about to declare war. “You said we go to the amusement park today. You promised, Mommy.”
Dominik reached for him and pulled him into his lap with ease. “We don’t forget, little one. A Moretti always honors his word.”
I leaned back against the pillows, watching them. A man who could run the world with one call… now feeding our child a bite of croissant. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
“I packed the pistols already,” I said casually, sipping my espresso. “Disneyland’s gotten chaotic these days.”
Dominik grinned and kissed the ring on my finger–our family crest set in obsidian and diamonds. “No war. No enemy. Just us today.“} “Mm,” I hummed, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Well, unless someone tries to cut in line for Space Mountain. Then I’m shooting knees.“> He laughed and handed our son a strawberry.
The news murmured in the background. A report on rising real estate prices in Italy. Another about an arms deal halted in the Balkans. But all I saw was the crawl at the bottom:
“Nothing moves without the Moretti name.”
I raised a brow and leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair from my son’s face. “You hear that, baby? We don’t just go to the amusement park. We own the kingdom.”
He giggled, mouth full. “Does that make me a prince?”
Dominik wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and nodded. “No, son. You’re something better.”
smiled faintly. “You’re a legacy.”}
He grinned wide and clapped. “Yay! Disneyland!“}
I kissed his forehead, then leaned toward Dominik.
“One day,” I said, low enough only for my husband to hear, “he’ll know everything. Who he was. Who we are. What she did. And he’ll choose us.”
Dominik brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “He already has. He calls you ‘Mommy, doesn’t he?”
I looked over at our boy–laughing, spinning in circles on the carpet, wearing a crown of foam he’d made from his milk. My lips curled.§
“Let’s go show Disneyland what fear really looks like.”
