Chapter 26 #2
Marcos again. Rivera wants to meet. Says he has information on the Miami distributor.
I showed Dante the message.
"Could be a trap," he said.
"Could be legitimate." I pulled up Rivera's file on my tablet. "He's been reliable so far. And he owes us after we cleared his territory of that trafficking ring."
Dante studied the screen, then nodded. "Set it up. But at the casino, not a secondary location. And double security."
"Already planned." I typed the response to Marcos, then looked up at Dante. "Want to sit in?"
"Try stopping me."
We spent the next two hours preparing. I reviewed Rivera's history and known associates while Dante coordinated security. By the time we walked into the private conference room on the casino's third floor, we had contingency plans for every scenario.
Rivera arrived precisely on time—a good sign. He was thin, nervous, but his eyes were sharp. Smart enough to be useful, scared enough to be honest.
"Mr. Taviani. Mrs. Taviani." He inclined his head to each of us. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Sit." I gestured to the chair across from us.
He sat, hands folded on the table. "I have information about your Miami distributor. Carlos Vega."
Dante leaned back, expression neutral. "We're listening."
"He's skimming. Has been for three months. I have documentation—shipping manifests that don't match delivery records, payments to offshore accounts."
Rivera slid a folder across the table.
I opened it, scanning the contents. Numbers lined up in neat columns, dates highlighted, discrepancies circled in red. Either Rivera was an excellent forger or this was legitimate.
"Why bring this to us?" Dante asked.
"Because Vega approached me last week. Wanted me to join his operation. Said you were..." Rivera swallowed. "Said you were too distracted by personal matters to notice what was happening under your nose."
Rage flickered through me, cold and sharp. Vega thought pregnancy made me weak. Thought love made Dante vulnerable.
He was wrong.
"Thank you for this information," I said, closing the folder. "It will be dealt with."
Rivera nodded. "I wanted you to know my loyalty lies with you. Both of you."
"Noted." Dante stood, signaling the meeting's end. "Marcos will be in touch regarding compensation for your assistance."
After Rivera left, Dante and I sat in silence.
"Vega's been with us for eight years," Dante finally said.
"Loyalty expires when greed exceeds fear." I tapped the folder. "We make an example. Public enough to send a message, brutal enough that nobody forgets."
Dante's eyes met mine, and I saw approval there. Pride.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll handle logistics tonight."
"We'll handle it together."
His smile was sharp. "Together."
The next three months blurred into a controlled chaos of consolidation and elimination.
Vega disappeared. His body surfaced in the Miami port with evidence of his theft carved into his chest. The message was clear: steal from the Tavianis and die screaming.
We absorbed his distribution network, promoting Rivera to oversee Florida operations.
I hosted three meetings with potential allies—businessmen who wanted legitimacy alongside profit. Dante sat beside me, a united front, while I negotiated terms that favored our expansion into real estate and tech investments.
Our empire grew. Legitimate and underground, intertwined so thoroughly that destroying one meant crippling the other.
And through it all, the life inside me grew too. Cells dividing. Heart forming. A future taking shape.
Four months after I'd told Dante about the pregnancy, we stood on the penthouse balcony. The city sprawled below us, lights glittering like scattered diamonds. Our kingdom.
Dante's arm wrapped around my waist, his hand settling protectively over the small bump now visible beneath my silk dress.
"This is ours," he murmured against my hair. "Every street. Every shadow. Every light."
"Yes." I leaned back against him, feeling his strength, his heat.
"And you're my queen."
I turned in his arms, meeting those icy blue eyes that had first seen me—truly seen me—when I was still pretending to be someone else's possession.
"And you're my king," I said. "My partner. My equal."
He kissed me, deep and claiming, while the city watched.
Below us, our empire thrummed with life and commerce and carefully controlled violence. Above us, stars fought through light pollution to shine.
And between us, our child grew—a promise of succession, of dynasty, of a future we'd carved from blood and determination.
I'd been a property once. A daughter. A fiancée. A captive.
Now I was Julietta Taviani. Queen of an empire built on darkness and strategy. Mother to a future prince or princess.
And I'd burn the world to protect what was mine.
Dante's hand tightened on my waist, and I knew he felt it too—this fierce, terrifying love that transcended possession or control.
"Together," I whispered.
"Always," he answered.
The city glittered below us, ours to command.
And we were just beginning.