Chapter 10: A Queen’s Choice

The phone kept ringing. A shrill, insistent sound that sliced through the frozen silence of Dante’s office. Marco’s words hung in the air like smoke—*Vincent took her*—and I felt the floor tilt beneath me.

Elena. My little sister. The only innocent soul I had left in this world.

Dante moved before I could. He was at the desk in three strides, snatching the receiver. His voice was ice when he spoke. “Vincent.”

I couldn’t hear the reply, but I saw the muscle in Dante’s jaw twitch. He listened, his eyes finding mine across the room. There was something in them—a flicker of fury, yes, but also something else. Something that looked terrifyingly like *knowing*.

“You want a trade,” Dante said flatly. “Say it.”

A pause. Then, a low, mocking laugh that I could hear even from where I stood. Dante’s hand tightened on the phone until his knuckles went white.

“She’s not part of this,” Dante growled. “You want me, come get me. Leave the girl.”

More words from Vincent. A threat, delivered with silken cruelty. I saw Dante’s gaze drop to the floor, then back to me. He held the phone away from his ear, covering the receiver.

“He wants you,” Dante said, his voice rough. “He’ll trade Elena for you. At the old church on Mulberry. Midnight.”

My blood ran cold. Vincent—the man who had been trying to tear Dante apart for months, the one who had already hurt so many people—wanted *me*.

The USB drive burned in my pocket. The evidence I’d stolen from Dante’s safe—ledgers, names, overseas accounts—everything Vincent would need to destroy him completely. I could trade it. I could walk into that church, hand over the drive, and walk out with Elena. Freedom. A new life, far away from all this blood and steel.

But the thought of leaving Dante made my chest split open.

And then I felt his hand on my arm, warm and steady. He pulled me closer, his thumb brushing my wrist. “Liora.” His voice was low, meant only for me. “I won’t let him have you.”

“Elena’s all I have,” I whispered. The words cracked. “I can’t lose her, Dante.”

“You won’t.” He said it like a vow. Like the kind of promise that carved itself into bone. “I’ll burn his whole world down before I let him touch you or your sister. But I need you to trust me.”

Trust him. The man who had killed my father. Who had taken me as a prisoner, then a pawn, then… something else. Something I couldn’t name.

But when I looked at him, I didn’t see the monster the world whispered about. I saw the man who had held me when nightmares woke me screaming. Who had taught me to shoot, his chest pressed to my back, his hands guiding mine. Who had looked at me like I was the only thing in the dark that mattered.

The USB was a weight in my pocket. My freedom. My escape. The one thing that could buy Elena’s life without risking my own.

But freedom without him felt like a cage of a different kind.

“What’s your plan?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

Dante’s smile was sharp, wolfish. “I’m going to give Vincent exactly what he wants.”

Marco stepped forward. “Boss, that’s suicide. You walk in there alone, you’re dead.”

“I didn’t say I was going alone,” Dante said. He turned back to me, his hands cupping my face. “I’m going to walk in that church with you on my arm. Like my queen. And when Vincent makes his move, you’re going to be the end of him.”

My heart stuttered. “How?”

“Because he wants you so badly,” Dante said, his thumb tracing my jaw. “He’ll underestimate you. He’ll think you’re just a prize to be won. But you’re not a prize, Liora. You’re a weapon. The deadliest one I’ve ever held.”

The words ignited something in me. A fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d first looked at me across that ruined wedding aisle.

I thought of the USB. I could hand it to him right now. Tell him everything. But I didn’t. Not yet. Because a part of me—the part that had grown sharp in this underworld—wanted Vincent to see me coming. Wanted him to know that he’d chosen the wrong sister to threaten.

Elena. My sister. His revenge.

I met Dante’s eyes. “I’ll play the part. But if he hurts her, Dante—if he touches a single hair on her head—I’ll kill him myself. And you won’t stop me.”

Dante’s grin was slow and dangerous. “I would never dream of it, *mia regina*.”

He kissed me then. A hard, possessive kiss that tasted of gunpowder and promise. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and blazing.

“Marco,” Dante said, never breaking my gaze. “Get the car. Tell the men we’re going to church.”

Marco nodded and slipped out. The silence that followed was thick with everything unsaid.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the cold metal of the USB. One choice for Elena. One choice for the man who had stolen my heart.

The phone in my pocket started vibrating. I pulled it out. An unknown number. A single text message, glowing green in the dark:

*She’s pretty, your sister. I do hope you won’t be late. —V*

I looked at Dante. He looked at me.

And I made my choice.

“Let’s go,” I said, and slipped the USB back into my pocket—*hidden, for now*.

Dante’s hand found mine. Together, we walked out into the night, toward the church where Vincent was waiting.

I just didn’t know which one of us would walk out alive.