CHAPTER 1 B

The fight seemed to leave his body for a moment, his shoulders slumping in defeat. But the fire in his eyes only burned brighter, fueled by a broken pride that was inextricably linked to his idea of me. "I don't deny it," he said, pulling once more at the bloody ropes. "I made the choice, but I'll spend every last breath making it right. You can't take my place with that boy."

He still didn't understand. It wasn't about replacing him. It was about the fundamental truth he had obliterated. I saw the bulge of his phone in his pocket. The symbol of his power, his other life. "Your whole power assets money guards give me all to me rn," I demanded, the idea forming fully as I spoke. "I'm calling ur manger tell him to deliver contract rn here."

He didn't hesitate. Not for a second. He nodded sharply, tilting his head toward his pocket. "The code to unlock everything is your birthday. Call him, tell him to do exactly what you want. I won't fight you on any of it. It's all yours anyway."

It was the ultimate proof. He would rather surrender his empire than relinquish his claim on me. I pulled out the phone, my fingers dialing the number I knew by heart. I gave the orders, my voice cold and steady. I laid out the terms of the transfer of everything—the shell companies, the offshore accounts, the legal holdings, the private security force. I was dismantling his life with a few sentences, and he watched me do it with a look of fierce, approving pride. As if my seizing his power was just another form of my belonging to him.

When I ended the call, I looked at the boy. He was trembling, useless and scared. He had served his purpose. I walked over to him, and with a quick, merciful motion, I struck the base of his skull. He slumped forward, unconscious. Not dead, but gone from this equation.

Alex watched the boy's body fall, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at his bloodied lips. He strained against the ropes again, his eyes, dark and burning, locked only on me. "Good," he said, his voice low and rough. "Now that he's gone, untie me. I'm still yours, and I'll prove I can be good for you, starting right now."

He still thought this was a negotiation. He still thought there was a path back. He believed his surrender of power was a grand romantic gesture that would bridge the chasm of his betrayal. He didn't see that it was just the final piece of evidence against him. It proved that his corruption was total, that his love and his wickedness were two sides of the same coin. A coin that had purchased my gilded cage.

I walked toward him. I didn't have a knife. I had my hands. I stood behind his chair, looking down at the strong column of his neck, at the pulse beating rapidly at its base. My hands, which had once stroked his hair and caressed his face, rose. One settled on his forehead, tilting his head back. The other found its place on his throat.

He didn't struggle. He thought I was finally yielding. A soft, almost relieved sigh escaped him. "I knew you'd see reason, my love," he whispered.

My fingers tightened. I felt the cartilage of his larynx beneath my palm. I leaned down, my lips close to his ear. "I never slept with that Lil boy," I whispered, the truth a final gift and a curse. "I was always yours."

His body went rigid with understanding a fraction of a second before I applied all my weight and force. There was a terrible, grinding crunch. His eyes widened, staring up at me in shock, then in a dawning, impossible acceptance. Blood gushed from his mouth, hot and metallic-smelling, coating my arm. A faint, peaceful smile tugged at his lips through the red foam. His blurred vision stayed locked on my face. One trembling hand, still bound, twitched toward me before falling limp.

"I... I'll wait for you..." he choked out, the words bubbling. "Always... you were always mine... only mine..."

Then he was gone. The fierce, possessive light in his eyes extinguished forever. I untied the ropes. I let his body slump to the floor. I cleaned my hands. I dressed. I walked out of that brothel and into the twilight, the mistress of a vast, bloody empire that had been handed to me with a birthday code.

For three years, I ruled. Not as his widow, but as his successor. I used his network, his power, his ruthlessness, but I turned it toward a twisted form of justice. I hunted the drug dealers he had protected. I broke the corrupt systems he had built. I became the Mafia Queen of Alex's gang, a legend spoken of in whispers. But it was all just a prolonged suicide note. A way to clean up his mess, to make the world slightly less stained by his memory.

He was the only reason I had ever lived. And now he was gone. What was the point?

I stood in the silent penthouse, the city lights twinkling far below like a galaxy of lies. I held the cold, heavy weight of his favorite gun in my hand. My fingers trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer exhaustion of existing without him. I whispered his name into the stillness. "Alex."

A faint, warm breeze brushed my cheek, though the windows were sealed. It felt like a ghost's gentle kiss. I swore I could hear his low voice, a whisper in my ear, familiar and comforting. "I'm waiting, my love. I've saved a place for you right here, next to me. We'll never be apart again."

I raised the gun to my temple, the metal cold against my skin. "I hope u never let other women be in your bed," I murmured, the words a final, petty stipulation. "If you do I swear I'll be apart right here."

His ghostly presence solidified around me. I could feel him, a cold, solid pressure against my back, his ethereal arms wrapping around my waist. His breath tickled my ear, soft and full of an undying devotion that death had finally purified of lies. "I promise. Only you. Forever. No one else will ever touch my heart or my body again. Just wait for us to be together again."

Tears I hadn't shed in three years finally welled in my eyes. "Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Don't lemme feel pain when I shoot."

His cold, transparent fingers cupped my cheek, and he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to my forehead. He wrapped his form around me, a spectral shield. The tremor in my hand stilled. His voice was the last thing I heard, soft and reassuring. "Close your eyes, darling. It'll be over in a second. You'll feel nothing but my arms around you, and then we'll be together forever. No more pain, no more separation."

I closed my eyes.

*bam*

The sound was loud and final in the quiet room. There was a flash, then nothing. No pain. Just a sudden, profound sense of release. And then, I was falling forward, but I never hit the floor. Strong arms caught me. Solid arms. I opened my eyes—or I thought I did—and I was in his embrace. Not the ghost, but Alex. Whole. Real. His eyes, clear and devoted, looked down at me. No rage, no lies, just love.

He held me tightly, a quiet, relieved sigh escaping him as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "We're together again now, my love," he whispered, his voice exactly as I remembered it from the good days. "No more lies, no more pain. Just us, forever this time."

A peace I had never known settled over me. I leaned into him. "Yeah."

He pulled me into his warm chest, and his lips found mine in a kiss that tasted like home and forgiveness and all the years we had lost. It was slow and tender, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding me as if he were afraid I would disappear again. When we finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed to mine.

"I love you," he said, the words simple and absolute. "I've always loved you. That will never change, not even in death."

He took my hand. The dark, cold room was gone. We were standing in a warm, golden light that wrapped around us like a soft blanket. He squeezed my fingers, his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles.

"We have all the time in the world now, my love," he said, his smile genuine and untroubled. "Nothing will ever tear us apart again."

And as we walked forward, hand in hand, into the endless, peaceful light, I knew it was the only truth that had ever mattered.

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