CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
TESSA
The thing about silence is that breaking it is as powerful as exerting it. If executed well, the decision to speak becomes the action that unveils authenticity, intention, and loyalty.
For a long time, I harbored guilt for the places I was drawn to, the people whom I connected with, the perspectives I held. I tried to mold myself in ways that enabled me to fit where others believed I should fit while also desperately trying not to lose pieces of myself.
An impossible feat.
I was an ink splotch, desecrating the colorful sketch of a fairy tale.
No matter how I spread myself around, I couldn’t seem to blend in.
From the right angle, I lent an artistic edge to that picture, but from where many were sitting, it would seem I sullied it.
And I harbored anger about that deep in my bones.
Emotions aren’t pretty. If I’m honest, much of that ire still prevails. I’m a work in progress—a wounded woman with a lot of lists. But I’m not alone in those messy feelings.
The Noires are such an eclectic mix of dark and light, of altruistic deeds and black-soul measures, of clandestine deals, grandiose parties, and family meals. No matter how I present myself, there’s a place for me. There always has been with them. I just had to open my eyes to the gift.
Right now, that’s on a stage and at a podium. A regal ballroom and a microphone before me. In front of the heads of the entire La Lune Noire membership, from Mafia dons to corrupt politicians to masked chiefs of secret societies.
Maddox is dashing in a suit and seated in an armchair next to me. His skin is pallid, his body exhausted, but his determination to be here for me and for his family won out.
I graze my thumb over my engagement ring, allowing the intricate lines to temper my nerves.
It’s a coffin-cut black diamond because Drac is hilarious and perceptive.
It’s anchored by amethyst crescent moons and smaller black and white diamonds that surround it in a pattern that mimics a chandelier and travels down the double band.
It’s perfect, a memento of both of our ridiculous nicknames while also encapsulating my style. He always gets me.
I’m fairly certain he has a tracker inside it too. Well played because I’ll die before I take it off.
His brothers and Mercy encircle us—the souls who offer me a home and open arms, willing to embrace me, no matter how I show up.
Love is an action.
Axel stands to my right, addressing the most powerful underworld leaders from across the globe with authority, dominance, and poise that far surpasses a king. He exudes the eminent power of an emperor, laying down the law to his many kingdoms.
The Lunds and the Makarovs are no more. It’s twisted and savage.
But their demise began with a rape. That and anything that harms innocents are acts the Noires and the secret society backing us, KORT, adamantly oppose.
And it escalated to a witch hunt that was handled outside the bylaws.
At that point, it didn’t matter whether Maddox and I were guilty or that it was an act of defense or any other angle.
Even in the shadows, there is a call to honor and a code to live by that they refused to uphold.
Without those, the darkness would be a prison of terror for us all. Complete anarchy.
Maddox tugs on my hand, so I quickly bend so my lips are an inch from his.
“Have I told you that you’re the most beautiful creature in the universe today?”
I stifle a laugh because I’m sure Axel doesn’t appreciate our sidebar, but we both know our minutes are precious. “About a dozen times. You’re devastatingly handsome yourself, Drac.”
He keeps his voice to a whisper and talks through clenched teeth. “Everyone in this room has their eyes on you because you’re so fucking radiant, but I’m feeling violently jealous.”
I peek at Axel to ensure he’s not winding down yet before I cradle Maddox’s gorgeous face.
“Everyone is looking at me because I’m standing on a stage, next to your brother, who is detailing the consequences of a breach of the membership agreement.
It would be disrespectful for their attention to be anywhere else.
But even if everyone in the world had their eyes on me, mine would still be on you—the love of my life. ”
He captures my mouth in a swift but steamy kiss, one that has Ryker and Mercy beaming and Jax and Cash biting back laughter.
Maddox plants one more peck on my lips before kicking his chin to Axel in a sign that it’s time for me to rise, but as I straighten, he tacks on another sweet sentiment. “You were born to be a queen.”
Like any event at La Lune Noire, there is champagne and vibrant decor and a jazz band softly crooning in the background that will switch to ebullient electro swing the second the speech has concluded. In the midst of a nefarious edict, whimsical opulence still abounds.
“Let’s close this out and get to our celebration with a few final notes,” Axel begins, wrapping things up. “As you know from the claim we issued, Tessa and Maddox will soon be married. That’s why they’ve got that young-and-in-love-newlyweds behavior going on while I’m trying to address all of you.”
A peal of laughter ripples through the crowd, and a flush creeps over my cheeks and neck, but when I turn to my man, he’s lit up like a Christmas tree, as is the rest of the family.
Axel hushes them all to continue, humor lacing the beginning of his delivery.
“Aside from that flagrant display, the manner in which these two fight for one another, for our family, and for the values of this community fills me with immense pride. I’m sure you can all agree that nothing outweighs the protection of our loved ones.
The sanctity of our covenant was threatened, but not conquered.
The woman who stands by my side—who will soon be my brother’s wife, my sister-in-law, and a pillar of the Noire empire—is one I am honored to present to you. ”
He turns to me, and in that charismatic way of his, he asks, “Anything you’d like to add?”
Because he alluded to me possibly contributing, I had a hunch he might do this, especially when he positioned me beside him, so without hesitation, I lean toward the microphone.
“I might be starry-eyed with my fiancé, but I am rarely impressed and often disgruntled, so take my upcoming complimentary statements to be a tremendous acclaim.” I pause while the room devolves into laughter, and Maddox glides his hand over my lower back, inching dangerously close to groping my ass in the name of encouragement.
“It is an honor to call myself Maddox Noire’s fiancée and to share this stage with a family I have the utmost respect for.
But what I love about them has nothing to do with where any of us in this room are standing. ”
I smile at Maddox, removing his hand from my backside and threading our fingers.
“Or sitting. What is truly special about the Noires, what I admired about them as an employee or a distant observer, is that the benefit of this society that they’ve created hinges upon unity.
On family. The invincibility is because we ban together.
Turning on that is what leads to demise, but leaning into it is a cause to celebrate. ”
Right on cue, drinks are passed out to all of us.
Most of the members already have one in hand, so we’re headed toward the end.
When I glance at mine, I realize it’s a Twelve Mile Limit—no doubt a subtle reminder from Maddox of our Corpse Reviver Cabaret date.
It wasn’t quite the beginning of us, but much like the drink’s essence, it was a thrilling line to cross.
I lift my cocktail and peer out at the jam-packed ballroom.
“Cheers to camaraderie and an empire built on respect that transcends typical boundaries. Whether we are referring to the catastrophic losses this week or the impending party this evening, let’s raise our glasses to one another.
Both are reminders that the Noires don’t toss out frivolous words. They speak through their actions.”
And the whole room joins me for our final toast of the evening. “Welcome to La Lune Noire. Drink and conspire.”
It’s with that collective rejoicing that I’m reminded how Maddox once said he was drawn to the duality of this life, the same duality that exists inside me and most likely all of us here.
It’s the reason my nickname makes sense.
The allure of this empire would be perplexing to most, given the obvious dangers.
But people don’t come to La Lune Noire for a dreamy escape.
We all crave the dichotomy of belonging to something inexplicable. A beautiful Nightmare.