Chapter 7 - The Crown We Bare
Z
The rain had stopped by the time the black SUV pulled up outside the Cook County Department of Corrections.
The heavy steel gates opened, and Dominic Vale stepped out into the afternoon light. He was still wearing his crisp white shirt, though his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked around, his dark eyes instantly cutting through the lingering crowd of news photographers stationed across the street.
Then his eyes found me.
I was standing by the open door of the SUV, wearing my white suit, the Chicago wind catching the fabric.
Dominic froze for a second. The man who had faced down cartel bosses, corrupt politicians, and billionaire rivals without blinking looked suddenly overwhelmed. He walked toward me, his stride long and purposeful, ignoring the shouts of reporters behind the police barricades.
He stopped two feet in front of me.
His eyes traveled from my sharp white suit up to my fully shaved head, and finally down to my eyes.
"You burned them," he said softly, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely allowed the world to see.
"I told you," I replied, a small, genuine smile finally breaking across my lips. "I don't like people messing with what's mine."
Dominic let out a low, breathy laugh—a sound so rare and full of relief that it made my heart ache. He reached out, his big, warm hand gently cupping the side of my head, his thumb lightly tracing the delicate line of my jaw. There was no fear in his touch, no pity. Only reverence.
"You looked like a queen up on that stage, Elena," he whispered, stepping closer until there was no space left between us. "Marcus showed me the broadcast on the prison monitor. You destroyed Graham Hale in five minutes."
"He hurt my husband," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my head against his chest, listening to the steady, strong beat of his heart. "And he thought I was just a pawn."
Dominic wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against him, hiding me from the flashing cameras of the press. For months, I had thought his protection was a cage. Now, holding him back, I understood the truth. A cage was something built to keep things in. What Dominic and I had built was a fortress—and today, we had shown the world what happened when someone tried to breach the gates.
"I'm sorry," Dominic murmured into my scalp, his lips resting against my skin. "I should have trusted you with the truth about the Monarch Room three months ago. I thought I was keeping you safe by keeping you in the dark. I was wrong. You don't need protection, Elena. You're the most dangerous weapon I have."
I pulled back slightly, looking up into his dark, fiercely beautiful eyes.
"I'm keeping the restaurant, Dom," I said, setting my terms. "And I'm running it my way. No hidden cameras. No secret guards in the kitchen. And Dennis is fired."
"Dennis is already in federal custody," Dominic smiled, his eyes sparkling with that dark, magnetic humor I loved. "The restaurant is entirely yours, Mrs. Vale. But what about your waitress shift?"
I laughed, a rich, clean sound that felt like the sun breaking through Chicago's gray clouds.
"My shift ended at ten last night," I said, slipping my hand into his, feeling the heavy gold of my wedding ring press against his skin. "From now on, I only work for myself."
Dominic opened the door of the SUV for me, bowing his head slightly with deep, genuine respect. "As you command, my queen."
As the SUV pulled away from the courthouse, leaving behind the ruins of Graham Hale's empire and the circus of the Chicago press, I looked out the tinted window at the skyline. The city was vast, cold, and full of dangerous men who thought money and power gave them the right to break people.
May you like
They had tried to break me.
Instead, they had stripped away the quiet waitress I had been pretending to be, leaving behind the one thing they couldn't control: a woman who knew exactly who she was, exactly what she was worth, and precisely how to rule beside the king she had chosen.
