Page 166 of King of Ashes

I let out a humorless laugh when my wife tilts her head, tapping her chin in thought. “I was thinking of that too—just a more permanent version.”

He glares at her, which my wife counters with such a stony gaze that he shifts on his feet. She pushes herself from her seat,a blade glistening in her hand. Strapped to the back of her skirt hangs a gun, and everyone can see it.

She looks lethal, a powerful goddess of justice who won’t pardon.

Keep it together.It’s her show and not about my unruly dick.

The other men watch in fascination as she reaches him. Placing the tip at his mouth, she nicks his lower lip. A single drop of blood coats the silver blade, a prelude to the life he will lose.

He opens and closes his mouth, his face reddening with mortification.

“Speak your mind as long as you still can.” Tipping her head, she motions for him to speak.

“You fucking bitch,” he spits. “No woman deserves a seat at the table. You’re weak and good for just one thing.”

It takes everything in me to remain seated, my muscles coiling taut to rip him apart limb by fucking limb for the crass insult. As if she senses my struggle, she seeks my eyes, and we share a silent conversation. She needs to establish her power. She has this, I tell myself. I lean back, tipping my chin in agreement, and everyone else notices the exchange.

The asshole realizes he won’t survive, color draining from his face while the other members wear curious expressions, already concocting plans as they realize she has the power to sway me.

I smirk, letting them simmer in their delusion. Unlucky for them, my wife is loyal only to me.

They can believe what they want. It will make it easier for me to control them.

She turns her attention back to the cockroach and taps his cheek in short, demeaning slaps. “Oh, so petty.” Then she places the tip of the knife at his neck, slowly sliding it down and pricking his skin, the fine line gushing with blood. “Wasting your last words on me.”

He’s about to say something else when she grabs his tongue and slices it. The cut piece of flesh flops on the floor by her heel, and she stomps on it.

A mix of surprised gasps and awe echoes in the eerily silent room.

“I wasn’t finished talking. See what impatience does?” She shakes her head, tsking.

Eyes blown wide, he gurgles on blood that coats his mouth and flows down his chin in rivulets of red.

She walks back to me, and that is my cue.

“Betrayal calls for death. No mercy,” I say and point my gun straight at his head.

The bullet erupts, shredding his brain, bloody gore sticking to the wall behind him. He falls to the ground, his body jerking one more time before it stills for good.

I slip my hand under the table and press the button.

A moment later, Conrad comes inside and orders two men to retrieve the body. They take the garbage out, and I shift my attention to the men around the table. Moving to the other topic on today’s agenda, I announce my new Underboss.

“This is a family affair. My uncle served me and the organization well. I have full trust that my wife will do the same.”

I don’t wait for their acknowledgment, another subtle sign of power. Instead, I pluck the folded knife from my pocket and slice my palm, then hers, shaking hands to cement the union.

“Blood in.”

“Till death comes for us,” the others say in chorus, accepting the unstoppable progress.

My wife will redefine a woman’s role in the Mafia, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

After each member welcomes her, they retreat one by one.

All the shit from the last four years unclenches its chokehold on me, the pointed talons easing from my soul as the wounds heal.

Alone, she slides her leg over my lap, straddling me. Locking her arms around my neck, she plays with the ends of my hair. “Thank you for believing in me.”

I brush my lips against her forehead. “I’m many things, but not a fool.”

“I swore my loyalty to you. I gave you my heart a long time ago. My body is yours to do with as you please. The world is yours, and so am I,” she murmurs.

I curl my fingers into her silky hair, tugging her head back so I can have better access to nibble her neck. “I might own the world, but you own me.”

“I love you, Vian. I wish these eight letters could encompass my love for you and reveal how deep my feelings run. What you truly mean to me, I can’t express.”

“Show me instead, mi sol. Let me experience it every day of my life. I love you. Till no end.”

The End