36. Jackson
JACKSON
The bedroom is dark except for the silver moonlight filtering through the windows.
Aliyah lies curled on her side of the bed, her black hair spilling across my pillow.
Even in sleep, she maintains that calculated grace - one arm tucked beneath her head, the other draped over her stomach.
The sight of her wearing one of my t-shirts only makes the love in me well up.
I never imagined I could feel this way, but everything about her has me absolutely enamored.
I slip from the bed, moving with the silence ingrained by years of training. The safe is hidden behind a panel in my walk-in closet - a place she hasn't discovered yet, despite her tendency to snoop through my things when she thinks I'm not looking.
I swear she looks for ways to push my buttons and I love it. I never want to know a day of peace again.
The mechanism clicks open with practiced ease. Inside lies the testament to my family's legacy - documents, backup weapons, emergency cash. But tonight I reach past all of that for a small velvet box I never thought I'd touch again.
The ring belonged to my grandmother, passed down through generations of Amato women. Three perfect diamonds set in white gold, elegant yet understated. The kind of piece that draws attention without screaming for it - like Aliyah herself.
"Fuck." I snap the box shut, jaw clenching.
This isn't what I do. I don't form attachments.
I don't let people close enough to matter.
Yet here I am, standing in my closet at three in the morning, holding a family heirloom and thinking about marrying a woman who I thought would hate me as long as she lived.
A soft sound from the bedroom freezes me in place. But it's just Aliyah shifting in her sleep, one leg kicking free of the covers. The sight of her vulnerable like this, trusting enough to actually sleep in my presence, makes my chest tight again.
Just like remembering her words from earlier does.
"And you just made the biggest mistake of your life."
"By coming after you? I don't think-"
"No. By hurting him."
She said I was hers. She said she loves me. And even though everything about it frightens me, I want more. I want her. I want everything.
And I'm tired of holding myself back.
I secure the safe and return the panel to its place. The ring box feels heavy in my pocket as I move back to the bed. Aliyah doesn't stir when I slide in beside her, but she automatically gravitates toward my warmth.
This woman is going to be the death of me. And the most fucked up part? I'm starting to think it might be worth it.
I pull Aliyah against my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine like she was made to be here. Her steady breathing fills the quiet room while my mind races.
I never thought I'd be in this position. Marriage was always something other people did - people who didn't understand our world, who didn't know how dangerous attachments could be.
But after tonight... The way she killed a man for me without hesitation. It's enough to have me wanting to sweep her down the aisle…and fuck her senseless. I don't give a shit if that makes me fucked up - because she loves me anyway.
The moon casts shadows across her face as I prop myself up against the headboard. The velvet box sits heavy in my palm now. Three generations of Amato women wore this ring. Each of them as dangerous as the men they married.
Aliyah stirs beside me, those gold-flecked eyes blinking open. She pushes up on one elbow, her black hair falling in waves around her face. That calculating look I've come to know so well crosses her features as her gaze fixes on the box in my hand.
"What's that?" Her voice carries that edge of steel beneath the sweetness, the one that first told me she was more than just another pretty face in a waitress uniform.
I meet her stare, keeping my expression neutral even as my pulse kicks up. Years of training help maintain my composure, but something in my chest tightens when she sits up fully, the oversized t-shirt slipping off one shoulder.
"You know exactly what this is, angel." I turn the box in my hand, watching her eyes track the movement.
She arches an eyebrow but stays silent, which is a fucking miracle in itself. The moonlight catches those gold flecks in her eyes, reminding me of all the times I've seen that same defiant glint when she's challenged me.
Of course she would now, too. The only time she's gentle with me is when I'm bleeding out.
And I wouldn't want it any other way.
"You weren't part of the plan. None of this was.
" I shift to face her fully. "I had my life figured out - the family business, the deals, keeping everyone at arm's length where they couldn't fuck with me.
Then you walked up to my table and threatened me and for some reason…
I couldn't get you out of my head after. "
Her lips twitch, but she doesn't tease me. Doesn't interrupt when I'm clearly trying to do.
"You're infuriating. You question every order, argue every point, and have absolutely no respect for anyone telling you what to do.
" I reach out, tracing the line of her jaw.
"And somehow that made me want you more.
Because you never backed down. Never cowered.
Never tried to be anything other than exactly who you are - a force of fucking nature that crashed into my life and refused to leave. "
I pop open the box, watching her eyes widen at the ring.
"I've spent my whole life believing love was a weakness.
Something to exploit. But you..." My voice roughens.
"You made me realize that wasn't true. I love you - and it is the most dangerous thing for everyone else because there is nothing I wouldn't stop at for you.
"So here it is, angel. Marry me. Be my queen in this fucked up kingdom we're building. Let me put my grandmother's ring on your finger and show everyone that the most dangerous woman in New York is mine."
Her lips meet mine with that perfect mix of silk and steel that defines her. The kiss is slow, deliberate - everything Aliyah does has purpose, even this. When she pulls back, that slight nod sets my blood on fire.
I twist my fingers in her hair, dragging her head back to expose the elegant line of her throat. "Say it, angel. I want to hear those words from that smart mouth of yours."
Those gold-flecked eyes lock onto mine, challenge sparking in their depths. "Yes." Her voice carries that hidden steel, the one that first drew me in. "Yes, I'll marry you."
The surge of possessive satisfaction that rips through me is primal. Mine. This brilliant, dangerous woman who's caused me nothing but trouble since the moment I laid eyes on her - she's mine.
I slide the ring onto her finger, settling into place like it was made for her. The diamonds catch the moonlight, throwing sparkles across her skin.
"Perfect fit." My thumb traces over the band. "Like it was waiting for you."
Aliyah examines the ring, that calculating look I've come to know so well crossing her features. But there's something else there too - a softness she rarely allows anyone to see. "A family ring?"
"Three generations of Amato women." I tug her closer, relishing the way she fits against me. "All of them as lethal as the men they married."
Her lips curve into that dangerous smile I've seen her use right before destroying someone's life with their own secrets. "Sounds like I'll fit right in."
I've never felt more certain about anything than I do about this moment. This woman. This ring. The empire we'll build together, brick by blood-soaked brick. The thought sends a rush of dark satisfaction through my veins.