Chapter 10
Six months passed. The Mercer estate was fully restored, the scars of the winter war erased by master craftsmen and the arrival of a vibrant spring. The grand reception room was once again a place of golden light and pristine marble, though the security detail around the perimeter had been quietly, permanently tripled.
Tessa stood in front of a gilded mirror in the master suite, adjusting the delicate diamond necklace resting against her collarbone. She wore a breathtaking, custom-made navy silk gown that draped beautifully over her figure. She was no longer Tessa the maid; she was Tessa Mercer, the unquestioned queen of the syndicate.
The heavy mahogany doors opened, and Julian walked in, looking devastatingly handsome in a fresh dark three-piece suit. He stopped, his breath catching as he looked at his wife.
"You look beautiful," Julian murmured, crossing the room to wrap his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the small neck tattoo above his collar.
"I'm nervous," Tessa admitted, leaning back against his broad chest, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "This is the first time I'll be introduced to the northern syndicates. What if they still see me as the girl who cleaned your floors?"
"They will see the woman who holds my heart," Julian said firmly, his dark eyes fiercely protective. "And if anyone dares to look at you with anything less than absolute respect, I will remove their eyes."
Tessa laughed softly, a bright, genuine sound that chased the shadows from the room. "Please, no violence tonight. It's a celebration."
Before Julian could promise, the door burst open. Rosie ran in, her soft curls bouncing. She wore a beautiful navy blue dress to match Tessa's, holding her star-shaped cushion in one hand and a newly acquired toy crown in the other.
"Mommy! Papa! It's time for the party!" Rosie cheered.
Julian smiled, scooping the toddler into his arms. "We're coming, piccola."
They descended the grand sweeping staircase together, a unified, impenetrable front. The reception room was filled with the elite of the criminal underworld, but as Julian and Tessa entered, a hush fell over the crowd—not of fear, but of profound, commanded respect.
The night was a triumph. The alliances were solidified, and the Mercer empire stood stronger than it ever had under the combined, balanced leadership of Julian's ruthless power and Tessa's quiet, grounding grace.
Late in the evening, after Rosie had been put to bed, Julian and Tessa slipped out onto the stone balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens. The night air was warm and sweet.
Julian wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "Are you happy, Tessa?"
"More than I ever thought possible," she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder.
Suddenly, Marcus stepped out onto the balcony, shattering the quiet intimacy. His face was grim, a stark contrast to the celebratory mood inside. He held a small, black encrypted tablet.
"Boss," Marcus said, his voice tense. "I’m sorry to interrupt."
"What is it, Marcus?" Julian asked, his demeanor instantly shifting back to the hardened leader.
"We just intercepted a transmission on the secure server. It bypassed all our firewalls," Marcus reported, handing the tablet to Julian.
Julian looked at the screen. It was a live surveillance feed of their own balcony, taken from the dark tree line miles away. The crosshairs of a sniper rifle rested squarely on the center of Tessa's navy silk gown.
Beneath the chilling image, a single line of text flashed in stark red letters:
May you like
The Shaws were just pawns. The real king wants his throne back.
Julian’s blood ran ice-cold as he pulled Tessa violently out of the line of sight. The war hadn't ended six months ago. It had only been sleeping.
