Chapter 10 - The Queen on the Board
One month later.
The rain had finally cleared, leaving the Seattle sky washed in brilliant shades of indigo and violet as the sun dipped behind the Olympic Mountains.
The penthouse at the top of Queen Anne Hill was quiet, but it was no longer a tomb of gray concrete. Soft, warm light illuminated the expansive living area. Classical music hummed gently through the surround speakers, and on the marble bar sat two crystal tumblers beside an unopened bottle of vintage scotch.
The door to the private study opened, and Dante stepped out.
He wore a tailored charcoal three-piece suit, looking every inch the unchallenged king of the city’s underworld. The scars were still there, but the dark, restless tension that had haunted his eyes for a decade had softened into something profound, powerful, and utterly grounded.
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
Standing by the glass, looking out over the glittering expanse of the harbor she had once fled, was Khloe.
She wore an elegant emerald silk gown that pooled around her feet, her dark hair pinned up with diamond clips. Around her neck hung a delicate platinum chain bearing a single, flawless black diamond—Dante’s personal mark.
She didn't turn when he approached. She simply leaned back slightly, resting her head against his broad chest as his arms came around her waist, locking her securely against him.
“The Port Commission ratified the new maritime security contracts this afternoon,” Dante murmured, his lips brushing the soft skin below her ear. “Your old boss, Holbrook, took a twenty-year plea deal. The Cassian name has been completely wiped from the registry.”
“And Jared?” she asked softly.
“The Coast Guard closed the search two weeks ago,” Dante replied smoothly. “The bay kept what it was owed.”
Khloe closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. The ghost was finally dead. The fear that had stalked her through the rain, that had forced her beneath that restaurant table in shredded stockings, was gone forever. She was no longer running. She was no longer hiding.
Dante reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a sleek leather folio, laying it on the small glass table beside them.
Khloe looked down.
Inside the folio were three pristine passports under different aliases, deeds to a villa in Lake Como, and bearer bonds that would allow her to disappear to the other side of the planet and live in untouchable luxury for the rest of her life.
The deal they had made.
“Your new life, Miss Bennett,” Dante said, his voice dropping, tinged with a rare, quiet vulnerability. “A clean slate. No enemies. No ties. You can leave tonight. Paulie is waiting at the private airfield.”
Khloe turned around in his arms, her hands coming up to rest against the lapels of his suit.
She looked up into those dark, slate eyes—the eyes of the predator who had spared her, the monster who had protected her, the king who had bled for her.
“You kept your promise,” she whispered.
“I always keep my promises to you,” he said, his thumb gently tracing her lower lip. “You are free, Khloe. You don't have to be part of this darkness anymore.”
Khloe smiled—a slow, radiant, dangerous smile that matched his own.
She reached down, picked up the leather folio with the passports, walked over to the marble fireplace, and tossed it into the roaring flames.
The papers caught immediately, curling into black ash.
Dante watched her, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes flaring with shock and sudden, consuming fire.
Khloe walked back to him, her hips swaying with pure confidence, until she was standing toe-to-toe with the most feared man in the city. She reached up, taking his tie between two fingers, tugging him down until their lips were barely a millimeter apart.
“I spent two years being weak, Dante,” she whispered, her voice rich with undeniable power. “I spent my whole life being prey. I didn't crawl out from under your table just to run away and hide in Italy.”
“What do you want, Khloe?” Dante rasped, his hands gripping her hips with bruising possessiveness.
May you like
“I want the city,” she murmured against his mouth. “Beside you.”
Dante let out a low, victorious growl, crashing his lips down against hers in a fierce, starving kiss that sealed their fates together. The prey was dead. The queen had taken her throne. And together, they would rule the shadows of the world they had conquered.
