Chapter 10 - The True King
The chaotic, violent energy of the night completely evaporated.
Vincent drove us to a breathtaking, hidden penthouse overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline. It was his true sanctuary, entirely unknown to Silas or the cartel.
We walked inside. I was exhausted, covered in dust, and still wearing the ruined white dress. I expected him to point me to a guest room so I could return to being his maid.
Instead, Vincent stopped in the center of the living room. He gently took my hand, his dark eyes filled with intense, protective warmth. He pulled out his phone and typed a long message, handing it to me.
You saved my life, Clara. You pulled the poison from my head, and you stood beside me in the dark. Your father sold you for fifty dollars, but to me, you are worth my entire empire. You are never cleaning another floor. You are never hiding again. I want you as my wife. Truly.
Tears of pure, unadulterated joy finally spilled down my cheeks.
I looked at the fearsome, deaf mafia boss who had treated me with more kindness than my own blood ever did. I didn't need to type an answer. I reached up, wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, and kissed him deeply.
The next morning, the news reported that my father and brother had confessed to the bombing and were locked away in federal prison. Silas was permanently erased by the Russian cartel.
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Vincent completely purged the remaining traitors from his syndicate, securing his throne with absolute authority. And standing right beside him, no longer a maid but the undisputed Queen of Chicago, was me.
If you were Clara, would you have handed your father to the police, or was tossing him to the Russian cartel the ultimate, perfect justice?
