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"WHO SAYS YOU CAN LEAVE?" THE ENTIRE MICHELIN KITCHEN FROZE IN DEAD TERROR AS THE MOST RUTHLESS SYNDICATE BOSS IN THE CITY PRESSED A BLOODY BLADE TO A FEMALE CHEF’S THROAT—ONLY TO WHISPER AN OFFER THAT WOULD TRIGGER A THREE-CITY MAFIA WAR! / Chapter 8 / 9

Chapter 8 - The Taste of Victory

The panic was instantaneous.

The Morello soldiers, seeing their boss collapse to the floor in a fit of violent vomiting, hesitated. In that fraction of a second, Marcus’s snipers fired. Three muffled puffs echoed through the warehouse, and the three shooters behind the crates fell.

Declan surged forward, his heavy silver pistol drawn, shooting the guard beside Teresa through the chest before he could even raise his weapon.

He untied his sister, pulling her into a brief, fierce hug before handing her to Marcus. "Get her to the car," he commanded.

He turned back to Morello, who was writhing on the floor, his face blue, his breathing shallow and wet.

"Is it true, Sadie?" Declan asked, his eyes scanning the dying don. "Did you poison him?"

"Of course not," Sadie said, walking over and kicking Morello's pistol away. "I’m a Michelin-starred chef, Declan. I would never ruin a good steak with poison. It was just a high dose of ipecac and food coloring in his driver’s coffee. He’s just having a panic attack."

Declan stared at her for three long seconds before letting out a loud, rich laugh—the first real laugh she had ever heard from him.

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Dr. Mercer looked down at the ultrasound monitor, her fingers moving with practiced ease over the trackball. The quiet hum of the machine filled the room, punctuated only by the rhythmic, heavy breathing of Dorian Cross standing near the door. He hadn't sat down once. His tall frame cast a long, imposing shadow across the sterile room, hand resting near the button of his suit jacket—a posture born of years of constant vigilance.

Dr. Mercer looked down at the ultrasound monitor, her fingers moving wit...

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut through the rainy night like a knife. I didn't wait for them. I held Arianne against my chest, feeling the terrifyingly erratic rhythm of her pulse, and bolted down the grand mahogany staircase.

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut thr...

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expensive cologne, manufactured corporate harmony, and betrayal. As I stepped back onto the sun-baked tarmac of the private aviation terminal, the stifling afternoon heat hit me like a physical blow. Behind the thick, tinted glass of the jet's windows, I could see Carter’s silhouette—his jaw set in that familiar, arrogant angle of a man who believed he had just successfully disciplined a disobedient pet.

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expe...

"You are a terrifying woman, Sadie," he murmured, his hand reaching out to wrap around hers, his fingers locking between hers.

"I told you," she whispered, looking up into his bruised slate eyes. "I don't let anyone ruin my kitchen."

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