Chapter 9 - The Alliance of Blood
By 3:00 AM, the rain had cleared, leaving the night sky crisp and dark over Gold Coast.
Inside the master bedroom, Naomi sat huddled in an armchair near the balcony, a thick cashmere blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She hadn't slept. The silence from the lower floors of the mansion was more terrifying than the storm had been.
The electronic deadbolts on the heavy oak doors unlatched with a loud click.
Adrian stepped inside.
He had changed his shirt again, now wearing a clean white linen dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands were clean, smelling sharply of anti-septic soap, but his eyes carried the weight of a man who had just returned from hell.
He walked over to her chair, dropping down on one knee in front of her. He reached out, taking her cold hands inside his large, warm palms.
“It’s handled,” Adrian said softly. “The house is secure.”
Naomi looked down at his hands, her voice trembling. “Who was it?”
“A temp assistant hired six months ago,” Adrian replied honestly. “Moretti paid him. He reached the sister to ensure cooperation.”
Naomi swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes again. “They tried to kill our baby, Adrian. Before it even has a chance to grow… they tried to poison it.”
Adrian squeezed her hands tightly. “They failed. And they will never get another chance.”
He paused, looking deep into her eyes, his expression softer than she had ever seen it.
“Naomi,” Adrian murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I know why you wanted to divorce me. I was a terrible husband. I hid behind my empire, I kept you at a distance, and I made you feel alone in this house. I thought if I kept you ignorant of my world, I was keeping you safe. But I was wrong. My silence almost cost me everything tonight.”
Naomi stared at him, her heart aching with a mixture of grief, fear, and blossoming hope. “Adrian…”
“I am not letting you go,” Adrian swore softly, bringing her hands up to his lips and pressing a warm, lingering kiss against her knuckles. “I am not letting this divorce happen. Not because of harbor contracts or syndicate bloodlines… but because I love you. I have loved you since the second I saw you restoring that damaged canvas in Pilsen three years ago.”
Naomi let out a quiet sob.
For three years, she had waited to hear those three words from his lips. Three years of cold charity dinners, silent nights in the master suite, and subtle distance. He had finally said it—not when he was king of Chicago, but when his world was crumbling around him.
“You’re an idiot, Adrian Vale,” Naomi whispered through her tears, leaning down to press her forehead against his. “You should have told me three years ago.”
“I’m telling you now,” he murmured, his hand moving up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her down into a fierce, tender kiss that tasted of tears, salt, and absolute devotion.
When they finally pulled apart, Naomi wiped her eyes, her expression turning sharp and resolute.
May you like
“What happens on Friday in New York?” she asked.
Adrian looked at her, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. “We go to New York together. We face the Commission. And we destroy Moretti once and for all.”
