Page 80 of Brutal Union
"You left better notes in Seneca," I counter, unable to stop myself. "About power being perception."
Luca's eyes sharpen with interest. "You two are passing notes like schoolchildren?"
Faith chuckles.
"Like strategists," Marco corrects, his thumb stroking my waist. "The best conversations happen between the lines."
Sofia actually laughs at that. "Christ, you're both nerds. Violent, terrifying nerds."
Alex snorts out a laugh. “Tell me you didn’t propose to her in a book margin.”
Marco actually slumps, and I can tell he considers that a missed opportunity. I rub his arm to cheer him up.
Sofia raises her glass with a sharp smile. "Next family meeting, Valentina runs strategy."
There's a challenge in her voice, testing whether I'll reach for power or defer to Marco. The old Valentina would have looked to her husband for permission. The woman who shot Liam O'Brien smiles and says, "I already am."
Ana raises her water glass formally. "To the new Queen of Chicago."
The toast ripples through the room. Even Dante raises his water, signing "Queen" with painful deliberation using his damaged hands. The acceptance is complete, but it came at a price. Blood on church floors, bodies in Lake Michigan, my relationship with Alice fractured, though not broken. This is what I paid for my crown.
I think of Alice, probably on a train by now, heading west with the money we gave her. Free. The one good thing to come from all this blood.
Later, Marco and I stand on the balcony overlooking our city. Chicago spreads below us, lights twinkling like conquered territories. Marco wraps around me from behind, and I feel his cock hard against my back, always ready, always wanting.
I look out at the city that's ours now. Every light represents territory we control, lives we affect, power we wield. The scent of frost and flowers rises from the gardens at our feet.
"My mother tried to escape this world," I say, tasting blood where I've bitten my tongue. "She died with my father's hands metaphorically around her throat."
Marco's hand moves to my throat, squeezing gently, and I moan. "And you?"
"I'm going to rule it instead," I say, grinding back against his erection. "I'm choosing to put your hands literally around mine, to beg you for the violence she ran from."
His fingers tighten on my throat, and I moan just from that, from his possession, from the promise of violence.
"That's my queen," he growls against my neck, then his teeth sink into the sensitive skin where my pulse races. "Tomorrow we start taking the Irish territories."
My breath catches. "What are you going to do?" But I already know. Can feel it in the way his cock presses insistently against my ass, in the darkness radiating from him.
"I'm going to make them kneel to you." His other hand slides down, pulling my dress up, fingers finding my soaked panties. "Every single one who resists. On their knees before their new queen."
"Marco…"
"Then," he continues, voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes me drip, "I'm going to fuck you on their territory. Claim it all." His fingers push my panties aside, sliding through my wetness. "So everyone knows exactly who rules Chicago now. So they understand that you're not just my wife. You're their queen, and I'm the king who'll kill anyone who forgets it."
The image he paints, me bent over something in a warehouse, Marco's cock buried inside me while we claim new territory, makes heat power through my entire body.
"You're sick," I breathe, but I'm already imagining it, already desperate for it.
"We both are." He spins me suddenly, pressing me against the balcony railing, the city lights blurring below.
His mouth crashes against mine, and I taste red wine. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll start claiming what's ours, and he'll fuck me on conquered territory, and I'll love every second of itbecause this is what I've become. A queen who gets wet at the thought of expanding our dark kingdom.
My mother would be horrified.
I can't wait.
Epilogue - Alessandro
