Chapter 10
The transition of power following Gareth's exile was swift and bloody in the shadows, but completely invisible to the bright, luminous surface of the Briarwood estate. Cormac moved with ruthless efficiency, dismantling the remaining factions loyal to his cousin and replacing them with men who understood the new reality: The Boss was untouchable, and his new fiancée was fiercely protected by the full wrath of the syndicate.
A month later, the grand ballroom was once again bathed in the warm, airy light of the cascading crystal chandeliers. The tall ivory candles flickered gracefully, casting golden highlights across the ivory-paneled walls. The space was prepared for another celebration, but this time, the atmosphere was genuinely joyous, devoid of the suffocating tension that had plagued the charity recital.
Iona stood before the massive gilded mirror in the master suite, staring at her reflection. She was no longer wearing the fitted black maid dress. Instead, she was draped in an elegant, sculpted ivory evening gown that clung perfectly to her figure. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and throat, complementing the heavy engagement ring on her finger. Her dark hair was swept up into a sophisticated, intricate style, softening the lines of her delicate, rosy face.
She looked movie-star beautiful, but more importantly, she looked like she belonged exactly where she was.
The heavy mahogany doors opened, and Cormac stepped into the room. He was dressed in a fresh, tailored dark three-piece suit, looking devastatingly handsome. The medical sling was gone, his shoulder fully healed, his powerful frame radiating absolute authority.
He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. His dark eyes met hers in the mirror.
"Are you prepared to face them, my love?" Cormac asked, his deep voice vibrating against her back.
Iona leaned back against his solid chest, feeling the cool metal of his family signet ring against her skin. "I'm not afraid of them anymore, Cormac. I have you."
"Do you believe they fear you now?" Cormac asked, a proud, lethal smile touching his lips.
"I think they respect the woman who isn't afraid to throw a punch," Iona laughed softly.
Cormac turned her in his arms, looking down at her with profound, quiet affection. "They respect the woman who commands my heart. The entire city knows that you are my equal."
He kissed her gently, a lingering, tender promise before the chaos of the evening began.
"Shall we go show them the new matriarch of the Briarwood family?" Cormac asked, offering her his arm.
May you like
Iona smiled, her eyes shining with quiet, unshakeable confidence. "Lead the way, Mr. Briarwood."
They walked out of the suite together, descending the sweeping marble staircase toward the luminous ballroom. The doors swung open, and the crowded hall fell silent. But this time, it wasn't a silence of terror; it was a silence of absolute, deferential awe. The king had returned, whole and unbroken, with his queen by his side, ready to rule their empire together.
