Chapter 10 - The Vow of Power
The final battle for Chicago had arrived directly at our doorstep.
Nikolai and I stepped carefully over the ruined threshold, our weapons drawn and our eyes scanning the dark corners.
The penthouse was eerily silent, smelling of expensive cologne and copper blood.
We found the remaining Romanov leader sitting on our ruined leather sofa, bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to his stomach.
Nikolai's loyal men had already ambushed the intruders, securing the penthouse just minutes before we arrived.
The rival boss fell to his knees, begging for mercy and offering to sign over all his territories, ports, and assets to Nikolai.
Nikolai accepted the surrender with a cold nod, cementing his absolute and uncontested rule over the entire city's underworld.
The war was officially over, and the Moretti empire was more powerful than ever before.
Exactly one week later, we were married in a grand, lavish ceremony at the Halston Hotel.
I wore a breathtaking, custom-made gown, standing beside the most feared man in Chicago not as his property, but as his absolute equal.
We shared a beautiful, tender dance under the crystal chandeliers, perfectly happy and entirely untouchable in our new life together.
Later that night, we arrived at our private honeymoon suite hidden in a remote, heavily guarded Italian villa.
I opened a silver gift box left carefully on the center of our bed, expecting champagne or expensive jewelry.
May you like
Inside rested a single, blood-stained white rose and a faded photograph of Nikolai's supposedly dead mother.
Written on the back of the photograph in fresh, dripping red ink were the words, "Did you really think I would let you take my city?"
