He was wrong.
"Thank you for this information," I said, closing the folder. "It will be dealt with."
Rivera nodded. "I wanted you to know my loyalty lies with you. Both of you."
"Noted." Dante stood, signaling the meeting's end. "Marcos will be in touch regarding compensation for your assistance."
After Rivera left, Dante and I sat in silence.
"Vega's been with us for eight years," Dante finally said.
"Loyalty expires when greed exceeds fear." I tapped the folder. "We make an example. Public enough to send a message, brutal enough that nobody forgets."
Dante's eyes met mine, and I saw approval there. Pride.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll handle logistics tonight."
"We'll handle it together."
His smile was sharp. "Together."
The next three months blurred into a controlled chaos of consolidation and elimination.
Vega disappeared. His body surfaced in the Miami port with evidence of his theft carved into his chest. The message was clear: steal from the Tavianis and die screaming.
We absorbed his distribution network, promoting Rivera to oversee Florida operations.
I hosted three meetings with potential allies—businessmen who wanted legitimacy alongside profit. Dante sat beside me, a united front, while I negotiated terms that favored our expansion into real estate and tech investments.
Our empire grew. Legitimate and underground, intertwined so thoroughly that destroying one meant crippling the other.
And through it all, the life inside me grew too. Cells dividing. Heart forming. A future taking shape.
Four months after I'd told Dante about the pregnancy, we stood on the penthouse balcony. The city sprawled below us, lights glittering like scattered diamonds. Our kingdom.
Dante's arm wrapped around my waist, his hand settling protectively over the small bump now visible beneath my silk dress.
"This is ours," he murmured against my hair. "Every street. Every shadow. Every light."
"Yes." I leaned back against him, feeling his strength, his heat.
"And you're my queen."
I turned in his arms, meeting those icy blue eyes that had first seen me—truly seen me—when I was still pretending to be someone else's possession.
"And you're my king," I said. "My partner. My equal."
He kissed me, deep and claiming, while the city watched.
Below us, our empire thrummed with life and commerce and carefully controlled violence. Above us, stars fought through light pollution to shine.
And between us, our child grew—a promise of succession, of dynasty, of a future we'd carved from blood and determination.
I'd been a property once. A daughter. A fiancée. A captive.
Now I was Julietta Taviani. Queen of an empire built on darkness and strategy. Mother to a future prince or princess.
And I'd burn the world to protect what was mine.
