Dante Moretti POV:
The freezing winter wind howled violently across the open observation deck of the Empire State Building. We had locked down the entire top floor, clearing out every tourist and security guard. Tonight, we stood at the absolute physical peak of the city.
I wore a heavy, tailored black trench coat. The cold air whipped the fabric around my legs.
Elena stood by my side, looking out at the glittering, endless ocean of neon lights that made up Manhattan. She wore a stunning burgundy velvet gown, but the wind was too sharp, so I had taken off my suit jacket and draped it heavily over her shoulders.
A few hours ago, in a windowless underground bunker, the National Mafia Commission had held their final vote. Every single Don from the five families had bowed their heads and unanimously voted me as the *Capo dei capi*—the boss of all bosses.
And when they looked at Elena, the men who used to sneer at her gender had lowered their eyes to the floor and called her *La Regina*. The Queen.
I stepped up behind her. I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist, pulling her back flush against my chest. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her vanilla perfume mixed with the crisp winter air.
I raised my hand and pointed out at the sprawling grid of city lights below us.
"Look at it, Elena," I murmured, my voice vibrating against her skin. "This entire city, this entire country. It belongs to us now."
Elena rested her hands over my forearms. She looked out toward the dark water where the Statue of Liberty stood illuminated. Her eyes were sharp, filled with the calm, arrogant grace of a true conqueror.
"This is just the beginning, Dante," she said smoothly. "Europe is waiting. We have more boardrooms to buy and more families to break."
I threw my head back and laughed. The deep sound rumbled in my chest, transferring directly into her spine. God, I was obsessed with her ambition. My love for her had evolved into a fanatical religion.
I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face me. I framed her face with my hands and crashed my mouth down onto hers. I kissed her fiercely in the freezing wind, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood and the intoxicating flavor of absolute power. It was a kiss meant to consume her soul.
When I finally pulled back, she was breathless. I raised my thumb and gently wiped a smear of red lipstick from the corner of her mouth.
"To celebrate our coronation," I said softly, looking into her dark eyes, "I am hosting a grand cruise banquet next month. In international waters. I’m inviting every politician, billionaire, and cartel boss on the planet to witness it."
Elena raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Her sharp instincts immediately picked up on the hidden calculation in my eyes. But she trusted me implicitly. She gave a small, confident nod.
She didn't know what I had done a few hours ago.
Before the Commission meeting, I had stood in the absolute security vault beneath our Long Island estate. My chief assistant had stood beside me, sweating profusely, his hands trembling as he held a fifty-page legal document.
The document was titled: *Moretti Family Core Assets and Underworld Power Absolute Transfer Agreement.*
I had taken my pen and signed my name on the final page, legally transferring exactly fifty percent of my entire empire—every casino, every shipping route, every drop of blood money—into a blind trust. The beneficiary line was blank, waiting for a single name.
I remembered looking at my assistant, my eyes dead and serious. "If a single word of this document leaks before the cruise, I will chop you into pieces and feed you to the dogs."
He had locked it inside a level-three biometric briefcase and shoved it into the deepest part of the vault.
I did it because I remembered how her father had treated her like a disposable pawn. I would bind my wealth and my life to her so permanently that not even God could take her power away. I was shattering the hundred-year-old patriarchal laws of the mafia, and I didn't care.
Back on the roof of the Empire State Building, the wind whipped around us.
I pulled off my black leather glove. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a massive, flawless black diamond ring—the ultimate symbol of the American underworld's throne.
I took her left hand. I slid the heavy black diamond onto her ring finger, right next to her wedding band.
I took a half-step back and dropped down onto one knee against the freezing concrete. I pressed my lips to the back of her hand, my eyes burning into hers.
"My queen, are you ready for my final gift?"
