Page 105 of Knuckles & Knives
“Maybe,” I agree, “but the game you’ve been playing has rules. Love doesn’t.”
“Love is weakness?—”
“Love is strength,” I correct. “My father trusted you. That was his greatest mistake. I trusted them. That’s my greatest strength.”
As Marina disappears into federal custody, I turn to find my four men approaching through the greenhouse’s shattered remains. Dom’s protective presence, Kieran’s strategic elegance, Marcus’s analytical precision, and Axel’s beautiful chaos—the family I chose, the men who chose me, the love that proved stronger than any manipulation.
“Is it over?” Dom asks, his dark eyes scanning for remaining threats.
“This part is. Marina was the final piece of my father’s legacy that needed resolution. Now we build something entirely our own,” I tell them, looking around at the greenhouse where I learned about cultivation and patience from a woman who used those lessons to justify murder and betrayal.
The war for my father’s legacy is finally over. The battle for our own future is just beginning.
CHAPTER 32
Six weeks after Marina Volkov’s arrest, I stand in what used to be my father’s office—now completely renovated, stripped of its dark legacy and reimagined as something that belongs to us rather than the ghosts of Vincent Blackwood’s empire. Gone are the intimidating power displays and symbols of fear-based authority, replaced with clean lines, natural light, and the kind of workspace designed for collaboration rather than domination.
“The federal asset forfeiture case concluded yesterday,” Kieran reports from his position at our new conference table, looking every inch the legitimate businessman despite his family exile. “Marina’s entire network has been dismantled, her resources redistributed to victim compensation funds.”
“Cross?” I ask, though I already know the answer from the satisfaction in Kieran’s voice.
“Pled guilty to avoid death penalty. Life in federal prison, no possibility of parole.” He sets down the legal documents with finality. “Both of them will spend the rest of their lives paying for what they did to your father.”
“Good,” Dom says simply, his massive frame relaxed in a way I rarely saw during our months of warfare. “Justice served.”
“What about the Kowalskis?” Axel asks.
Kieran shrugs. “They’re quiet for now. Cross must’ve kept them in the dark about Marina’s real endgame. We’re watching them.”
Marcus adds, “If they move, we’ll be ready.”
I nod. “Let them see what real power looks like. We’re not inheriting an empire. We’re redefining it.”
For the most part, though, I’m less interested in our enemies’ fates than in what we’re building from the ashes of their schemes. The legitimate businesses we’ve acquired through legal channels, the community programs we’re funding to address the root causes of criminal activity, the network of allies we’re cultivating based on mutual benefit rather than fear or manipulation.
“Status report on the youth center construction?” I ask Marcus.
“Ahead of schedule,” he replies, his fingers dancing across multiple screens displaying architectural plans, budget projections, and timeline charts. “The old fight club space will be converted to a full gymnasium and training facility. Kids from the neighborhood will have access to proper coaching, educational programs, and mentorship opportunities.”
“Instead of being recruited by criminal organizations,” Axel adds with satisfaction, his wild energy channeled into something constructive for perhaps the first time in his life. “Breaking the cycle instead of perpetuating it.”
It’s been six weeks of this—systematic transformation of everything we inherited from Vincent’s empire, Cross’s network, and the Sterling Syndicate’s resources into something that builds communities instead of exploiting them. Not charity, exactly, but enlightened self-interest that recognizes sustainablepower comes from lifting people up rather than keeping them dependent.
“There’s something else,” I say, standing and moving to the window that overlooks the financial district where this all began. “Something we need to discuss about our future.”
The quality of silence that follows tells me they know what’s coming—the conversation we’ve been avoiding while focusing on practical reconstruction and legal resolution.
“The empire,” Dom says quietly.
“What’s left of it, yes.” I turn to face the four men who’ve restructured their lives around loving me, fighting beside me, building something new from the wreckage of old feuds. “We have resources, connections, influence that spans both legitimate and underground networks. The question is what we do with it.”
“What do you want to do with it?” Kieran asks, his ice-blue eyes carrying the weight of someone who’s already sacrificed one empire for love.
“I want to transform it completely,” I admit. “Keep the useful connections, the legitimate businesses, the community influence, but eliminate anything that requires fear, violence, or exploitation to maintain.”
“That’s not how criminal empires work,” Marcus points out with analytical precision.
“Exactly,” I reply. “Which is why we’re not building a criminal empire. We’re building something entirely different.”
