Chapter 10 - The Queen of Shadows
Three weeks later.
The private cemetery in Queens sat shrouded in autumn mist.
Hundreds of black umbrellas formed an impenetrable sea around the Rossi family mausoleum. Men in tailored black suits—the leaders of the Genovese, Lucchese, Gambino, and Bonanno families—stood in absolute, reverent silence. Judges, police commissioners, and city councilmen stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the most dangerous men in America.
Don Salvatore Rossi was finally laid to rest beside his wife.
The Commission sit-down hadn't resulted in a war. When Gabriel entered the meeting room two days after the dockyard massacre, he hadn't brought weapons.
He had brought the ledger.
He laid three folders on the table—copies of bank accounts, offshore trusts, and wiretap transcripts proving Marco had been cutting deals with an Albanian cartel to cut the five families out of the ports entirely. The Commission had voted unanimously to recognize Gabriel as the sole head of the Rossi syndicate, sanctioning Marco’s death as righteous justice.
Now, as the priest finished the final Latin benediction, the crowd began to disperse, offering quiet condolences to Gabriel.
I stood ten yards back under a black silk umbrella, wearing a tailored charcoal coat, my hair pinned up in an elegant chignon.
Elena was alive. She was thriving in a private recovery villa in upstate New York, her medical treatments fully paid for by a trust fund established in her name. For the first time in five years, my sister had color in her cheeks and a future in front of her.
A soft step sounded on the damp grass.
Gabriel walked toward me, discarding his umbrella, letting the light autumn mist fall on his dark hair. The cut on his cheek had faded to a faint, silver scar that only added to his lethal elegance. He wore a midnight-blue three-piece suit, looking every inch the king he had been born to become.
He stopped in front of me, looking down with those intense, dark eyes that had once terrified me in a crowded restaurant.
“They’re waiting for you at the estate,” Gabriel said quietly.
I tilted my head, a faint smile touching my lips. “The capos?”
“All of them. Dante, the underbosses, the union heads. They know who holds the key to the Swiss vaults, Tessa. They know who saved the Don’s life, and they know who stood on that pier with me.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it.
Inside was not an engagement ring.
It was a signet ring made of dark, oxidized gold, bearing the Rossi family crest—a rearing lion holding an olive branch wrapped in a serpent.
“My father had this made before he died,” Gabriel said, his voice dropping to a low, husky register that sent a shiver down my spine. “He said you were Bernardo’s blood, but you had Rossi fire. He said if I was smart enough, I’d make you my partner. If I was stupid, I’d let you walk away.”
Gabriel stepped closer, closing the distance between us until his coat brushed against mine.
“I don't intend to be stupid, Tessa.”
I looked at the gold ring, heavy with centuries of power, blood, and history. Then I looked up into Gabriel’s eyes—the man who had walked through hell to protect my sister, the man who had burned an empire down to keep me safe.
“I won't be a shadow in your house, Gabriel,” I said, my voice steady, clear, and unyielding. “I won't be a wife who sits in the parlor while the men decide the fate of the city. If I wear this ring, I sit at the head of the table beside you. We rule together, or I walk away right now.”
A slow, devastatingly handsome smile spread across Gabriel Rossi’s lips. It was the smile of a king who had finally found his queen.
He took my left hand in his, lifting it to his lips, kissing my knuckles before sliding the heavy gold signet onto my finger.
It fit perfectly.
May you like
“The seat beside me was made for you, Tessa,” Gabriel whispered, his eyes blazing with dark, unending devotion. “Now come home. We have an empire to run.”
I took his arm, turning our backs on the graves of the past, and together, we walked into the waiting darkness of New York.
