Chapter 10 - Reign of the Vales
One year later, the Chicago underworld looked very different.
The old families had learned a new rule: you didn't cross the South Side, and you certainly didn't underestimate the quiet bride from St. Louis.
At a private gala in downtown Chicago, amidst a sea of political figures, wealthy businessmen, and syndicate leaders, Clara Vale stood at the center of the ballroom. She wore a stunning emerald-green gown that caught the chandelier light with every step, her posture commanding, her gaze sharp and intelligent as she negotiated terms with a regional shipping magnate.
From across the room, leaning against a marble pillar with a glass of scotch in his hand, Mason watched her.
Liam stepped up beside him, adjusting his cuffs with a grin. “She’s terrifying, boss. Half the captains in the room look more scared of her than they do of you.”
Mason took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving his wife as she smoothly closed a multi-million-dollar logistics contract with a smile that could charm a banker and bury an enemy in the same breath.
“Good,” Mason said, a dark, satisfied smirk touching his lips. “A true queen doesn't need to raise her voice to rule the kingdom.”
Clara turned her head across the crowded ballroom, her gray eyes locking onto his through the sea of expensive suits and glittering jewels. She didn't smile immediately. Instead, she raised her champagne glass in a silent, knowing toast—a reminder of the night they met, the war they survived, and the empire they built together from the ashes.
May you like
Mason raised his glass back.
The peace offering had come with a bullet, but the war belonged to them now.
