Chapter 10 - The Sovereign’s Queen
Forty-eight hours later, the Duca estate was quiet once more.
The autumn sun beat down warmly against the limestone balustrades, burning away the morning mist. The broken glass had been replaced with military-grade ballistic polymers, the lawn had been meticulously re-sodded, and the entire subterranean network was now shielded behind a newly installed physical firewall designed to Tessa Morgan’s exact specifications.
Inside the grand master library, Marco sat behind an antique mahogany desk. He wore a crisp charcoal three-piece suit, his cuffs secured with obsidian links, his dark hair neatly styled.
On the desk before him lay a brand-new yellow folder.
A soft knock sounded at the double doors.
“Enter,” Marco said.
Tessa walked in.
She had traded her tactical catsuit for a stunning, emerald-green pencil dress that accentuated every lush curve of her hips and bust. Her dark hair fell in soft, glossy waves around her bare shoulders, and her hazel eyes sparkled with sharp, unyielding confidence. In her hand, she carried a single, ripe green pear.
Marco leaned back in his leather executive chair, watching her cross the room with the slow, deliberate grace of a queen inspecting her throne room.
“Ms. Morgan,” Marco acknowledged, a faint, rare smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“Mr. Duca,” she replied, stopping before his desk. She took a slow, deliberate bite of the pear.
*Crunch.*
Marco didn't even flinch. If anything, the sound sent a sharp, intoxicating ripple of satisfaction straight to his core.
“I brought your final invoice,” she said, placing a pristine white envelope on the mahogany surface next to the yellow folder. “Full penetration audit, emergency operational consultation, and one industrial crane deployment.”
Marco didn't touch the envelope. He tapped the yellow folder with one manicured finger. “What about the report?”
“It’s inside.”
Marco opened the folder.
On the first page, beneath the heading *Duca Estate: Comprehensive Security Audit*, Tessa’s neat, elegant handwriting filled the score line:
*Final Score: 10/10.*
Beneath that, she had added a short note: *Physical structure impenetrable. Human elements sufficiently motivated. Recommend permanent executive supervision.*
Marco flipped to page twelve.
It was no longer blank.
In the center of the page, written in bold ink, was a single sentence:
*The only vulnerability remaining in this house is sitting behind this desk.*
Marco closed the folder with a soft *snap*. He looked up, his obsidian eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made the air in the vast library hum with electric tension.
“You think I’m a vulnerability, Tessa?”
“I know you are,” she said softly, walking around the perimeter of the desk until she was standing right beside his chair. She rested one curvy hip against the polished wood, looking down at him. “A man who controls an empire can't afford to be distracted by a woman who breaks into his kitchen.”
Marco rose slowly from his seat. Standing at his full height, he towered over her, his broad shoulders cutting off the sunlight streaming through the tall French windows. He took the pear from her fingers and set it aside, his hands moving to rest firmly on the curve of her hips.
Tessa’s breath hitched in her throat as he pulled her flush against his body.
“You’re not a distraction, Tessa,” Marco whispered, his gravelly voice vibrating through her skin. “You’re the only person in this city who sees through the walls I built.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath her jawline, making her shiver against him.
“The contract you submitted is rejected,” he murmured.
Tessa tilted her head back, offering him her throat, her fingers finding the lapels of his suit jacket. “Is that so? On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that you’re not an independent contractor anymore,” Marco said, his mouth moving over hers, his hands gripping her waist with dark, unyielding possession. “From today onward, you are the Director of Sovereign Security for the Duca Syndicate. You write the rules. You oversee the perimeter. And you sleep in the master suite.”
Tessa looked up into his eyes, her lips parted, a wicked, breathtaking smile curving her mouth.
“That sounds like a very expensive retainer, Marco.”
“Name your price,” Marco whispered, his dark eyes burning with total devotion. “The entire city is yours.”
Tessa reached up, her fingers sliding into his dark hair, pulling his face down to hers until their lips were a fraction of an inch apart.
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“I don't want the city, Marco,” she purred, her eyes dancing with triumphant fire. “I already took the king.”
And as his mouth crashed down onto hers in a fierce, all-consuming kiss, the fortress doors were finally closed—not to keep the world out, but to lock the two of them safely inside.
