Chapter 8 - The Fall of ViktorBy dawn, the rain had cleared, leaving the Manhattan skyline washed in a pale, cold morning light.
The penthouse lobby was filled with federal agents, clean-up crews, and Leo’s remaining security detail carting away the unconscious remnants of Viktor’s elite squad. Down in Brooklyn, federal raids—orchestrated by anonymous tips provided by the Moretti syndicate—had seized Viktor’s shipping warehouses, freezing his accounts and scattering his lieutenants to the winds.
Viktor himself had been intercepted at Teterboro Airport trying to board a private jet to Moscow.
Chloe sat at the kitchen island again, wrapped in a plush cashmere robe, drinking hot tea. Danny had already been bundled into a secure transport van headed for a private airstrip, looking chastised, broken, and terrified straight into a new life.
Leo walked into the kitchen. He had changed into a fresh black shirt, though a slight bruise was already forming along his jawline from the fight. He set a thick manila folder down on the marble counter in front of her.
“What’s this?” Chloe asked, looking up.
“Your new identity papers,” Leo said calmly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “And a marriage license.”
Chloe stared at the folder, her breath catching. She slowly opened it. Inside lay a certified marriage certificate, already signed in crisp, bold ink by a judge, and a passport bearing her photograph with a completely new last name: Moretti.
“Leo, we haven't even talked about this—”
“We talked about it. You just weren't listening because you were too busy worrying about your brother,” Leo interrupted smoothly, pulling out the stool opposite her and sitting down. He rested his elbows on the counter, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute, unyielding gravity. “Viktor is finished. Your brother is out of the country. Bradley Hayes is eating microwave dinners in a studio apartment in New Jersey wondering how his life imploded. There are no more obstacles.”
“Marriage isn’t a business transaction, Leo,” Chloe said softly, though her fingers traced the edge of the gold-embossed certificate. “You don't have to trap me here.”
“I’m not trapping you,” Leo corrected, reaching across the counter to cover her hand with his. His touch was warm, steady, and grounding. “Look at me, Chloe.”
She raised her eyes.
“The night we signed that initial contract, when everything went sideways... it wasn't just desperation,” Leo said, his voice dropping into that deep, hypnotic register that made her pulse race. “From the moment you walked into my casino with your head held high, trying to bargain your life for a fool of a brother... I knew you belonged with me. The child just gave us a head start.”
A small, disbelieving smile touched Chloe’s lips. “You are the most arrogant, terrifying, controlling man I have ever met.”
“And you are the only woman in New York who has ever told me ‘no’ and lived to tell the tale,” Leo replied, a genuine, breathtaking smile finally breaking across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, snapping it open.
Inside rested an engagement ring unlike anything ordinary society wore—a rare, deep-green emerald flanked by two brilliant-cut diamonds, sparkling brilliantly in the morning light.
“Will you marry me properly, Chloe? No contracts. No arrangements. Just us.”
Chloe looked down at the ring, then up into the dark, fierce eyes of the man who had burned down half of Manhattan just to keep her safe from a sarcastic ex-boyfriend and a Russian syndicate.
She thought about the cold sidewalk, Bradley’s cruel words—“You got fat”—and the hollow, miserable life she had left behind.
She smiled, a bright, radiant smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
“Only if I get to keep wearing your oversized sweaters,” Chloe whispered.
May you like
Leo stood up, walking around the counter, and pulled her gently out of her seat, sliding the emerald ring onto her finger before pulling her flush against his chest.
“You can wear whatever you want,” Leo murmured against her lips just before he kissed her. “As long as you never leave.”
