Chapter 19 - THE PRICE OF THE CROWN
The war was over, but the victory tasted like ash and copper. The streets were quiet again, the Calabrese forces either dead, surrendered, or running back to New York with their tails between their legs. The Moretti syndicate was now the undisputed, absolute power in the Midwest.
But the toll was heavy. The bunker was quiet as Evelyn walked through it. They had lost good men. Lorenzo was sitting at the central desk, looking exhausted, a fresh bandage wrapped around his waist. He looked older, hardened by the violence, but his eyes softened completely when Evelyn walked into the room.
She poured two glasses of bourbon, just like he had done on her first day. She handed him one, sitting on the edge of his desk.
"We did it," Lorenzo said softly, tracing the rim of his glass. "No one will ever challenge us again. Not in this lifetime."
"It cost us," Evelyn said, looking at the map. The blinking red lights were gone. The city was glowing a solid, peaceful green. "But it's ours. All of it."
Lorenzo set his glass down. He stood up, wincing slightly, and pulled Evelyn into his chest. His hands traced the curve of her spine, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. "I didn't just want the city, Evelyn. I wanted you to stand at the top of it with me. I want you to be my wife. Not just a partner in the business. My partner in everything."
May you like
Evelyn looked up into his dark eyes, the ruthless mob boss melting away to reveal the man who loved her fiercely. Tears, a rare occurrence for the iron queen of Chicago, pricked her eyes. "Yes," she whispered fiercely. "Yes, Lorenzo."
---
