Chapter 5 - The Reign of the Rescued King
Six months later, the Moretti estate looked entirely different.
The cold, intimidating fortress of stone and shadows had undergone a quiet revolution. The arrogant capos who had treated the staff like dirt were long gone, replaced by men who knew better than to cross the boss—or the woman standing beside him.
At the head of the long mahogany dining table, Lorenzo Moretti sat with absolute authority, but his hand rested comfortably over Hannah’s.
She no longer wore the oversized gray uniform. Instead, she wore a tailored emerald dress that fit her full figure to perfection, her head held high, her eyes bright with a confidence no one in the city had ever expected to see from the quiet maid.
Across the table, visiting capos from New York and Chicago sat in polite, nervous silence, watching the dynamic between the most dangerous man in America and the woman who had brought him back from the dead. Nobody whispered behind her back anymore. Nobody made cruel jokes.
Because everyone in the underworld knew a simple, unbreakable rule:
You could survive a bullet from Lorenzo Moretti. You could survive a war with his syndicate. But if you ever made the mistake of disrespecting Hannah Bell, the boss wouldn't just kill you—he’d make sure you stayed cold forever.
As dinner concluded, Lorenzo leaned close to her ear, his voice a low, warm murmur above the clinking of crystal glasses.
"Are you happy, Hannah?"
May you like
Hannah looked around the grand room, then turned her gaze to the man who owned half the country yet looked at her as if she owned his soul. She smiled, her hand tightening over his.
"Never better, Mr. Moretti," she whispered. "Never better."
