Chapter 8
332words
I first saw her in a VIP box at an underground fighting ring. She sat beside her father—a porcelain doll with the eyes of a wild leopard. In that moment, I knew she would be mine.
When I heard she'd fled our wedding, I laid a trap.
I tracked her escape route, sent away my men, and waited alone in that rain-soaked alley.
I knew she would come. And I knew that cornered, she would make the most unpredictable choice.
She didn't disappoint.
That desperate, passionate kiss was more intoxicating than any whiskey I'd ever tasted.
I loved watching her bare her claws, playing her little games, flashing that Black Card from my own family's bank and threatening to keep me as her plaything.
Adorable, really.
I let her investigate my fake identity. Let her believe she held all the cards. I needed to know—without the Wilson and Rossi names—what she truly saw in me.
In that motel, when she fought beside me instead of running, I had my answer.
This woman was worth burning the world down for.
My power serves as a warning to those old fools.
From this day forward, no one in New York's underworld will dare lay a finger on my wife.
I'll give her absolute freedom to become whatever she wants.
And she did.
She finished her education and, with her brilliance and what I taught her, transformed the Rossi Family's criminal enterprises into New York's most formidable legitimate business empire.
She became the queen she was born to be. And I, her willing king.
Years later, her head resting on my chest, she asked what would have happened if she'd simply asked for my help that night instead of kissing me.
I smiled and pressed my lips to her forehead.
"I'd have tied you up and locked you away until you fell in love with me anyway."
"From the moment I saw you, Irene, you were already mine."
Till death do us part.
