Lifting my chin, I let the heart fall to the floor with a loud splat and put my hands on my hips. “I would be insulted if you didn’t. You have to admit what I just did was hot as fuck.”
He growled and pulled me to him. “Fuck yes, it was.” Then, he was kissing me. My hands reached up to grip his hair, not even caring about the blood on them. I pressed my whole body against him. When we pulled back, I was breathing harder than expected. “Did you call me your wife?”
“Elin, that doesn’t even begin to cover what you are to me, but yes. I will be putting a ring on your finger as soon as you allow me.”
Kissing me again, I moaned into his mouth as his hands gripped my hips. The metallic scent of death surrounded us, but all I could focus on was the heat of Gavriel's body against mine. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me with a ferocity that made my knees weak.
"Should we . . . leave, sir?" one of the men asked, his voice uncertain.
"Stay," Gavriel commanded against my lips, not bothering to look at them. "Bear witness to your new Don and his Queen."
A thrill shot through me at his words. I bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, mixing it with the stains already marking us both. His groan vibrated through my body as his hands slid lower, cupping my ass and lifting me against him.
"Everyone here should understand exactly who I belong to, and who belongs to me." My voice was just loud enough for them to hear, but with the tone that commanded attention.
“Harley!”
“Yes, sir.”
I couldn’t help but let a small smile cross my face.
Without looking at his men, Gavriel commanded, "Have someone clean this up." His hand gestured to the bodies of his father and Juarez.
"Yes, Don Azzaro," came the immediate response.
I leaned into his touch, suddenly aware of the magnitude of what we'd accomplished. Ezequiel Azzaro was dead.I cut his heart out, just like he had made Gavriel do.I gave Gavriel another quick kiss just as someone cleared their throat.
“I mean no disrespect, sir, but . . . Don Juarez?”
Gavriel’s gaze went to Juarez’s lone bodyguard in the room, who hadn’t said a damn thing. “You can take him back home. It appears that my father shot him over an unknown dispute.”
“An unknown dispute, Don Azzaro?”
Gavriel’s arm tightened around my waist as he turned toward him. “When my wife and I came in, he was already dead. We were here for my father, who then tried to kill her just because she loves me and I her. Obviously, I couldn’t let that stand. My wife may have also held a grudge over the fact that my father is the reason hers is dead.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jeremiah, one of Ezequiel’s last faithful, stepped forward. “You killed your father for power?”
“No,Ikilled him for causing my father’s death,” I spat.
He sneered as he glared at me. “Shut up, the men are—”
A gunshot rang out, and he fell to the floor, and then it was my pretty boy who announced, “Anyone else have an issue with how I became Don? No? Great, now how about no one talks about or to my wife like that or they will find themselves in the same predicament.”
I blinked in shock. Everyone’s heads instantly bowed except for the bodyguard of Juarez. He looked at Juarez’s limp frame in the chair by the table and just said, “I have been Don Juarez’s guard since he was twenty. I cannot go back in shame.”
Before anyone had a chance to say anything or move, another shot rang out and blood sprayed through one side of the room, speckling over the guards on the other side. I froze. It was one thing to pull the trigger in revenge for my father, but to watch someone willingly put a bullet in their own head? I didn’t know how to process that.
What the fuck?
I stood there, staring at his body, my stomach soured even as a cold, calculating part of me admired his loyalty. The room seemed to split in two. Half the men stepped back with horrified expressions, wiping blood from their faces, while the others remained impassive, as though suicide were just another business transaction. My hands trembled, but I clenched them into fists, trying to remember my father’s words about clearer heads, but also because there was a part of me that respected his decision.
The room fell into a deafening silence, the echo of the gunshot still ringing in my ears. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry and tight. The adrenaline and focus I had to complete my revenge was wearing out and my body was crashing.
"Let's go," Gavriel murmured, guiding me from the room with a firm hand at the small of my back. I was dimly aware of the blood drying on my skin, the metallic scent now sickening rather than exhilarating.
The remaining men parted before us, eyes downcast in deference to their new Don. The walk through the mansion's corridors felt surreal, as though we were moving through a dream—or perhaps a nightmare. The adrenaline that had carried me through the confrontation was ebbing, leaving behind a hollow feeling I hadn't anticipated. With each step, my muscles faltered. I was exhausted. Without missing a step, Gavriel reached down and swung me up into his arms.
