I look around the room, meeting the eyes of the old guard and the new. Kaz gives me a slow, amused nod. Lukin tips his chin with quiet respect. At the far end, Logan shifts slightly, already knowing what’s coming but still looking tense. He always does when he thinks someone’s about to take a shot.
I pause. Then I call him forward.
“Logan,” I say, and his head lifts. “Come here.”
There’s a beat of hesitation—he doesn’t like the attention—but he steps forward anyway, shouldering the gazes of some of the most dangerous men in this country.
He reaches the platform. I look him in the eye. He still has bruises. Scars. But his spine is straight.
“This man,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, “has been cleared of all accusations. The charges? False. The betrayal? Manufactured.”
There’s murmuring. Surprise. A few nods.
I keep going. “Logan is no longer a question mark. He’s no longer a problem. He’s a Rusnak ally. Protected. Respected. One of us.”
I clasp his shoulder and squeeze it hard enough to mean something. Then I glance at the crowd again.
“If anyone touches him…they answer to me.”
There’s silence. Then one of the soldiers claps. Another joins. The applause grows, slow but strong. I see Jennie clapping too. Her smile is soft, glowing. Her eyes are full of tears. She presses her fingers to her lips, and the gratitude in her face knocks the air out of me.
That look. That’s why I did this. That’s why I’d do it again.
I give her the smallest nod. It’s all worth it. Still holding her gaze, I call out and hold out my hand to her.
“My wife.”
Every head turns. The room stills. Even Lukin stops bouncing his son on his knee. Jennie lifts her head slowly from where she stands with Zoe and Violet, her lips parting just slightly.
And then she starts walking.
Black silk trails behind her like smoke. Her hair spills over one shoulder, and her eyes—God, her eyes—lock on mine like I’m the only thing anchoring her to this earth.
She walks with quiet grace, but every step commands the room. The men watch with a mixture of awe and disbelief. No one expected this—the feared enforcer with a woman. No one expected me to love. I didn’t expect it either, but here I am.
She places her hand in mine without hesitation.
And in that moment, I swear to every man watching that if anyone even dreams of harming her—I’ll burn their world down.
I draw her up beside me, arm slipping around her waist like it’s instinct. My voice is low, but clear.
“This is Jennie,” I say. “My wife. My heart. My queen.”
A murmur spreads again. Kaz laughs. I know he’s probably thinking I’ve gone soft, but fuck him.
Some of the older men exchange glances, calculating what this means for power, for loyalty, for the legacy of the Rusnak name. I don’t care what it means to them.
To me, it means everything.
I glance down at her.
She’s blushing, smiling softly, the same way she did when she first kissed me back without fear. The same way she smiled in my arms when she saidI love you.
I press a kiss to her temple in front of everyone.
Let them see. Let them know. This woman is mine.
And I would kill every last man here to keep it that way.