Chapter 10
Julian stood between the two worlds—the fraudulent, rotting empire of his aristocratic family, and the terrifying, sovereign throne of his wife.
He looked at his mother, who had tried to steal his newborn son for a gambling debt. He looked at Callie, who had smiled at him while planning his ruin.
Then he looked at Seraphina. He saw the faint bloodstain seeping through the bandage beneath her silk robe where she had torn her stitches to protect their babies. He saw the fierce, unyielding love burning in her eyes—a love that had commanded an army to safeguard their twins.
Julian didn't run. He didn't step back.
Slowly, deliberately, Julian walked to the side of the armchair. He dropped to both knees before Seraphina, reached out with shaking hands, and gently covered her palm with his own. He pressed his forehead against her knees, letting out a long, ragged breath that sounded like a sob.
"I don't care who your family is, Sera," Julian whispered, his American accent rich with unbreakable conviction. "You are my wife. You are the mother of my children. And anyone who threatens you is an enemy to me."
A faint, breathtaking smile touched Seraphina’s lips. She gently buried her fingers into his hair, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple.
"Good," Seraphina murmured. "Because we have one final piece of business to finish."
She looked up at Mark Adler, who was standing by the door. "Mark."
"Yes, Boss?"
"Bring the car around to the private ambulance bay," Seraphina commanded, her baritone dropping into that chilling, executive cadence. "Chief Pierce will escort Mrs. Hale and Callie to the federal holding facility in White Plains. Hand the wire fraud documents and the Castiglione gambling receipts directly to the district attorney. Ensure their bail is set at twenty million dollars each."
Doreen shrieked, clawing at the chair as two guards hoisted her to her feet, while Callie wept uncontrollably, both of them dragged through the double doors into the hallway as the locks clicked shut with finality.
Seraphina stood up from her chair, supported gently by Julian’s arm. Together, they walked over to the twin bassinets, looking down at Miles and Ivy, who slept peacefully beneath the bright, golden warmth of the afternoon sun.
Mark Adler’s phone buzzed with a sharp, urgent chime.
He checked the encrypted screen, his scarred jaw tightening instantly. He stepped toward Seraphina, his voice dropping to a low, troubled whisper that only she and Julian could hear.
"Boss," Mark said, his eyes dark with tension. "Dominic just breached the Greenwich estate. The Castiglione collectors were neutralized, but Richard Hale wasn't alone in the study."
Seraphina looked up, her grey eyes narrowing. "Who was with him?"
"A courier from Chicago," Mark answered, handing her the decrypted dispatch. "Bearing the personal seal of your father's older brother—the one who vanished twelve years ago. He left a message on the desk: The boy belongs to the old blood. Bring him to the lake, or the city burns."
The room went completely, terrifyingly still.
Julian looked at Seraphina, his hand tightening around hers. "Sera... what does that mean?"
Seraphina looked down at the dark platinum serpent ring on her hand, then toward the sprawling skyline visible through the sunlit glass.
May you like
A slow, lethal smile curved her lips—the smile of an empress who had just received an invitation to war.
"It means my uncle survived," Seraphina whispered softly, her voice cold as ice. "Tell the captains to fuel the private helicopters, Mark. We’re going to Chicago."
