Chapter 5 - The Viera Queen
The morning sun rose over Chicago, casting a pale, golden light through the shattered windows of the Viera estate. The police and federal agents had been kept at bay by the heavy bribes and political leverage Elio commanded, leaving the syndicate’s cleanup crews to silently scrub away the evidence of the massacre.
The Santoro threat was permanently extinguished. Those who hadn't been killed in the siege had surrendered the moment news of Matteo's death spread through the underworld.
I stood in the center of the ruined ballroom, the cold morning air brushing against my bare arms. I was wrapped in one of Elio’s heavy wool coats, the shredded remains of my wedding dress hidden beneath it.
The altar where we were supposed to take our vows was completely destroyed, the white roses stained red.
Footsteps crunched over the broken glass behind me.
Elio walked up to my side. His arm was heavily bandaged, and he looked exhausted, the weight of the crown settling heavily upon his bruised shoulders. He looked at the ruined altar, then down at me.
"The East Wing sustained heavy fire damage," Elio said quietly, his voice a rough gravel. "It will be uninhabitable for months."
I looked up at him, a faint, tired smile touching my lips. "Where will I stay, then?"
Elio turned to fully face me. The cold, impenetrable Mafia Boss I had feared in the hallway was entirely gone. In his place stood a man who had stripped away his armor, laid his vulnerabilities bare, and fought through hell to keep me breathing.
He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek.
"You will stay with me," Elio said, his dark eyes searching mine for any lingering doubt. "In the master suite. By my side. Not hidden away, not sheltered, and never dismissed."
He stepped closer, the physical distance between us evaporating. "I was a fool to think I could treat you as a business arrangement. You possess more strength in your broken dress than half the men in my syndicate. You belong at the head of this family, Ginevra. With me."
I reached up, covering his hand with my own. The fear that had dictated my entire life—the fear of my father, the fear of this brutal world, the fear of a loveless, imprisoned marriage—was completely gone. It had burned away in the bunker, forged into something far more powerful.
"I heard you in the hallway," I reminded him softly, leaning into his touch. "You said you needed someone you could trust."
"And I found her," Elio replied, his thumb brushing across my lower lip.
He leaned down, and for the first time since he had placed the massive diamond on my finger months ago, he kissed me. It wasn't the cold, obligatory kiss of a forced marriage. It was deep, desperate, and filled with a fierce, possessive promise. It was the kiss of a man who had nearly lost everything, clinging to the only thing that actually mattered.
When we finally broke apart, the sirens were beginning to wail in the distance, a faint reminder of the world outside the estate's walls.
"We have an empire to rebuild," Elio murmured, his forehead resting against mine.
I looked at the shattered remains of the ballroom, then back into the eyes of the man who had burned his kingdom to protect me. I pulled the heavy wool coat tighter around my shoulders, standing tall amidst the ruins.
May you like
"Then let's get to work," I said.
I was no longer the sheltered daughter of the Moretti family, traded away for shipping routes and port access. I was Ginevra Viera. And the city was about to learn exactly what happens when the king finally finds his queen.
