Page 133 of Unholy Union
“But they weren’t in love...”
“No,” he admits. “They couldn’t stand each other. But he was her safety net. He gave us the life of privilege we’ve had. I think a part of her is afraid of having to figure out everything without him.”
For the first time since I’ve married Cato, I feel a small twinge of sympathy for his mother. I’m almost tempted to wander over and offer my condolences until he squeezes my hip and draws my attention back to him.
“She’ll be alright,” he says. “She’ll go on a spa retreat and get a couple facials and realize she’s finally free. We’re all processing what that means.”
“No kidding,” I mutter under my breath.
“But what’s most important is that we recognize this is a new dawn for all of us. A chance to reshape everything. The future, the rules—whatever we want.”
“Then we’ll build an empire together. Not as a Corsini or a Valente. We’re forging it together as a Corsini-Valente dynasty. It belongs to us both.”
His grin breaks across his face. “And our children that you’ll be bearing?”
He threads our fingers together and starts walking us toward the exit, leaving the funeral reception behind.
“We did agree to one in the first year, didn’t we?” I say, feigning cluelessness.
“I believe so, if I remember correctly.”
“So long as it’s a girl,” I add, arching a brow up at him.
He stops just short of the double doors, where the driver has stepped out and opened an umbrella for us. Rain drums against the pavement, showing no signs of letting up anytime soon.
“Our son will come first,” he says as if the matter is decided. “An heir. Someone to take over decades from now.”
I snort as we descend the pebbled steps. “Then that’s on you, my dear husband. You do remember how biology works, don’t you? Your sperm decides.”
He smirks as the car door swings open and I slide inside first, the scent of leather filling the cabin. As the door shuts and the car glides away from the curb, he leans over and kisses me, brushing his lips against mine.
It’s a promise of more to come.
“That’s a lot of pressure,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Guess we’d better get started. We’ll needa lotof practice.”
I answer him with a soft laugh, settling against his side as we ride through the rain-slicked streets and stare out the window at the mosaic of blurry lights.
It’s the first real time in months that I’m not anxious about what’s to come. I’m actually looking forward to the future—or what Cato referred to as a new dawn.
It’s finally ours to write as we wish.
Chapter 29
Cato
Feeling Good - Michael Bublé
Six months later…
Alot can change in six months.
Following my father’s death, his wishes were respected. As the official heir, I ascended the throne of the Valente crime family without challenge, without bloodshed. I took my place as Don, and with that, inherited an army of men who now answer to me and me alone. Entire territories across New York City fall under my command—all bending to the will of a man they once feared as heir and now kneel to as king.
Everything that was his is now mine.
That also includes the legitimate empire my father left behind, like what was once known as Valente Luxura. A company built on dirty money and even dirtier business practices. In his will, he left me his fifty-one percent stake, and with it, the board's final vote of confidence. I was appointed CEO unanimously with no objections.
But inheriting his empire was no longer my ambition. I didn’t want to keep things the way they were anymore. I didn’t want to play the part of the dutiful son stepping into his shadow like I used to.
