hinter
A hundred and eighty-seven people watched Chicago’s most feared mafia boss roll backward into twelve feet of freezing water—and not one of them screamed. / Chapter 10 / 10

Chapter 10 - The Unbroken CrownThree months later, Lake Michigan looked entirely different under the bright, golden warmth of a late autumn sunset.

The Vescari estate was quiet, peaceful, and heavily fortified. The dark clouds of betrayal had cleared away, leaving behind an empire that was stronger, cleaner, and more unified than it had been in decades.

I stood on the stone balustrade of the terrace where it all began—the exact spot where Julian’s wheelchair had tipped over the edge into the freezing water.

Only this time, the decorative stone railing had been replaced with reinforced steel bollards, and the motorized chair was locked securely in place.

Footsteps crunched softly on the flagstones behind me.

I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I knew the rhythmic, heavy hum of the custom tires against the stone.

Julian rolled up beside me, stopping at my shoulder. He wore a crisp black tailored suit, his dark hair swept back, looking every bit the untouchable king of Chicago’s underworld. But when he looked at me, the hard, razor-sharp edges of his mafia persona softened completely.

"Your brother sent a postcard," Julian said, pulling a small piece of glossy cardstock from his pocket and handing it to me. "He’s opened a charter boat business down in Key West. Says the water is warm and there are no syndicate meetings."

I looked down at the postcard, a bright, genuine smile spreading across my face. "He looks happy. Really happy."

"Good," Julian murmured. He slid his hand over mine resting on the stone balustrade, his fingers intertwining with mine with absolute, unbreakable certainty. "Because I don't intend to let you follow him down there anytime soon."

I turned my head, looking up into his dark, piercing eyes. The fear I had felt eleven days ago when I first lied my way through the front gates was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, fierce loyalty that transcended fear, danger, and the dark rules of the underworld.

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He smiled—a slow, devious, utterly captivating expression—and pulled me close against his side as the autumn sun dipped below the Chicago skyline, casting a crown of gold over the lake that had tried to claim him, and the life we had built from the depths.

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