But this isn’t about love or partnership or any of the fairy-tale bullshit normal people believe in. This is about keeping her alive. About fulfilling the terms of my son’s will, even though I want to dig him up just so I can kill him again for putting us both in this position.
Over two decades of running this empire. Now I’m going to share it with a girl who hadn’t even been born when I made my first kill for the family.
Dante, you stupid bastard. Even dead, you’re still finding ways to complicate my life.
I walk to her room and enter without knocking.
She stands by the window, looking out at the gardens. The afternoon light shows the small bandage above her eyebrow and the fading bruises on her neck. She moves more easily than yesterday. The doctors did excellent work.
“Maria said you wanted to see me.” I keep my voice cold. “This better be worth my time.”
She doesn’t turn around.
Then she speaks, her voice quiet but clear.
“I’ll marry you, Alaric.”
12
KASI
Today I become a Moretti,and I plan to make them all regret it.
Maria fastens the last button on my black dress, her fingers trembling with excitement. The fabric hugs my body like a second skin, sophisticated and elegant in a way that makes me look older than twenty-two. My hair falls in waves over my shoulders, dark as midnight against the dress.
“You look stunning, miss,” Maria whispers, stepping back to admire her work. “Mr. Moretti won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Red lips. Dark eyes lined. Pale skin that’s finally lost the last traces of bruising. I look like a woman who belongs in this world of money and violence.
“Time to go,” I say, checking my wristwatch. Three o’clock. My wedding is scheduled like a business meeting.
Maria leads me through the hallway, past expensive paintings and marble statues. Everything in this place screams wealth and power.
We stop outside Alaric’s office. Maria squeezes my hand once, then knocks.
“Come in.”
The office is larger than I expected, but no less impressive. Dark wood paneling covers the walls, broken up by shelves lined with leather-bound books and crystal decanters. A massive desk dominates the center of the room, its surface polished to mirror brightness. Behind it, tall windows overlook gardens where I used to walk under guard.
Alaric stands near his desk wearing a black suit. His silver hair is perfectly styled, and his green eyes track my movement as I enter.
David Roth, the family lawyer, waits beside him with an open book in his hands. Benedetto stands near the window, hands clasped behind his back. Lionel takes a position by the door, his face still bearing faint bruises from whatever punishment he received.
“Miss Vale,” David says formally. “Are you ready to begin?”
I walk to the center of the room and face Alaric. “Let’s get this over with.”
David clears his throat and begins reading from what I assume is some kind of legal ceremony. “We are gathered here today to unite Kasimira Vale and Alaric Moretti in marriage, as required by the terms of Dante Moretti’s last will and testament.”
Romantic.
“Do you, Alaric Moretti, take Kasimira Vale to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?”
Alaric’s eyes never leave mine. “I do.”
“Do you, Kasimira Vale, take Alaric Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?”
The words stick in my throat for a moment. This is it. The moment I officially become property of the Moretti family again. But it’s also the moment I gain power. Real power.
