Chapter 9 - The Family SecretFalcone stared at Lucian, then at the dozens of Moretti soldiers slowly aiming their rifles at his chest. Realizing he was completely outmatched, Falcone slowly lowered his pistol, cursing under his breath.
"You're a fool, Lucian," Falcone growled. "She's going to swallow your family whole."
"Get your men and get out of here," Lucian ordered. "The docks are mine. The city is ours."
Falcone gritted his teeth, waved his men back, and retreated into the fog, leaving Lucian and Elena standing alone on the blood-soaked pier.
Lucian turned to face his wife. The adrenaline of the battle was fading, leaving only the heavy, oppressive weight of the truth.
"You knew," Lucian said quietly. "From the day we got married. You knew your father was the head of the Council. You let me treat you like a trophy wife. You let me mock your cooking, ignore you, relegate you to the corners of this estate."
"I had to, Lucian," Elena said, her eyes softening as she reached out to touch his arm. "If Vance or Falcone knew who I was, they would have assassinated me years ago. I needed a husband who was powerful enough to protect me, but arrogant enough to ignore me while I rebuilt my father's network in secret."
"So I was just a shield?" Lucian asked, pain flickering deep in his green eyes. "A tool?"
Elena stepped closer, wrapping her hand around his neck, pulling his face down to hers. "At first? Yes. You were just the ruthless Lucian Moretti, the mob boss who thought he owned the world."
She leaned up, her lips brushing against his cheek. "But then you let me into your kitchen tonight. You trusted me when no one else would. You stood between me and Falcone's gun just now. You didn't just protect me because of a contract, Lucian. You protected me because I am yours."
Lucian looked into her eyes, seeing no deception—only a terrifying, beautiful truth. He wrapped his arms around her curvy waist, pulling her flush against his chest, feeling the heavy beat of her heart.
"You lied to me for three years, Elena," Lucian whispered, his voice dark and possessive. "How do you expect me to forgive you?"
Elena smirked, leaning up to bite his lower lip gently. "I'll cook you dinner."
May you like
Lucian let out a low laugh, pressing his forehead against hers. "You are a dangerous woman, Elena Moretti."
"I'm the Empress of this city, Lucian," she corrected him. "And it's time we go take our throne."
