Chapter 24 – Adrian
The night air carries a chill, but inside the estate, everything glows. The chandeliers, the candles, the polished gold detailing on the cutlery—it all gleams like we’re hosting a wedding instead of a war council.
I adjust the cuff of my suit, scan the ballroom from the balcony, and nod to Zalar, who’s stationed near the main entrance with four of our best men. No one gets in without being cleared. Not tonight.
It’s not just a dinner. It’s a statement.
Logan is free.
Jennie is mine.
And anyone who has a problem with either can walk their traitorous ass out the door—or get carried.
They all know Jennie. They’ve seen her at my side for weeks. But tonight, I will speak her name and make her place known—not just to the men who follow me, but to the world that watches from the shadows.
And Logan.
Unless I declare his freedom openly, officially, publicly—there will always be someone who thinks it’s safer to put him in the ground. I won’t let that happen. Not for Jennie.
I scan the room slowly.
Logan stands off to the left, surrounded by some of my men.
They’re laughing at something. He’s fitting in.
Still green, still soft around the edges, but I see grit in him now.
Strength. He just needs the right pressure.
My men will handle it. And over the past few weeks, he and Jennie have grown closer, and it makes me happy that she has family.
Across the room, Lukin cradles his son, Sam, while Kaz gestures animatedly beside him. I’m not sure what the hell Kaz is saying, but Lukin looks like he’s enjoying it. It hits me then, how rare this peace is. How rare this feeling is—of having everyone I care about under one roof…alive.
And then there’s Jennie.
She’s talking with Zoe and Violet, her closest friends.
Her laughter dances across the room like a melody, sweet and warm.
The black silk of her gown hugs every curve.
Her dark hair falls like waves down her back, and she turns her head just enough for the candlelight to catch the sparkle in her earrings.
She doesn’t know I’m staring. Doesn’t realize that every heartbeat I’ve got left belongs to her.
She’s so beautiful. I love her so much. It’s unreal.
Soon, the room quietens.
Conversations fade. Chairs shift. Forks stop clinking against plates. The weight of what’s coming settles across the hall like smoke. Every man in here knows what it means when I take the stage.
I step up slowly, glass still in hand.
“My brothers,” I begin, voice steady, low. “My friends. My blood.”
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 said I 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.
The applause rolls in like thunder, steady and respectful. Glasses clink. People rise to their feet. I lift a glass of dark liquor, the burn already familiar on my tongue. Jennie’s hand rests lightly on my chest, grounding me.
“To loyalty,” I say. “To strength. To family. And to the woman who gave me something I never thought I needed—peace.”
Everyone echoes, “To family. To Jennie.”
She squeezes my hand, a quiet thank you in the touch, and I lean in just enough for only her to hear. “I meant every word.”
Her smile is radiant.
Then Zoe swoops in with a dramatic “Excuse me, brother-in-law, but the queen’s needed on the dance floor,” and Violet is already tugging Jennie’s arm.
Jennie laughs, her fingers sliding from mine like silk. I let her go, watching as she disappears into the crowd again. She’s glowing—untouchable, beautiful, mine.
Kaz slides in beside me, already nursing his drink.
“You’re pathetic,” he mutters into the rim of his glass, eyes on Jennie. “I’ve never seen a man so whipped in my life.”
I grunt, not taking my eyes off her. “Careful. You’re starting to sound jealous.”
He scoffs. “Of what? Emotional entanglement? Soft eyes? Frequent baths? Pass.”
“She’s changed me,” I say quietly.
He side-eyes me. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is,” I murmur. “It is.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. Just downs the rest of his drink, sighs, and claps me on the back. “Still. If you start writing her poetry, I’m staging an intervention.”
I smirk.
“Then you better get your pen ready. Because I’ve got sonnets in me.”
Kaz groans, but he’s smiling too.
I turn toward the dance floor, expecting to see Jennie swaying between Zoe and Violet, caught up in their laughter. But she’s not there. Just them, twirling in heels, tossing their heads back in delight, completely unaware.
My eyes scan the room, and then I see her. At the far end. Slipping past a server and hurrying down the corridor, her silk dress rippling like a shadow behind her.
My blood chills.
Something’s wrong.
Without thinking, I push my glass into Kaz’s chest and weave through the crowd.