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We're both dark-haired, both with shadows in our eyes that weren't there when we first met. But where I once saw only differences between us, now I see similarities.

The capacity for violence. The will to protect what's ours. The acceptance of what this life demands.

"The official story is a heart attack," Luca says, eyes meeting mine in the reflection. "The oxygen tank malfunction was a tragic accident during his final moments. Matteo attempted to save him but fell down the stairs in his haste."

I nod, understanding the necessity of the fiction. A Don doesn't die from a bullet fired by his daughter-in-law. He dies with dignity, with his legacy intact.

"And Dante?"

Luca's grip tightens momentarily. "Still missing. Alessio has men searching, but he's gone to ground."

"With the Volkovs?"

"Most likely." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "But that's a problem for another day. Today is about transitions of power. About establishing the new order."

I turn to face him fully, hands resting on my abdomen. "And what am I in this new order, Luca? Wife? Mother? Killer?"

"Queen," he says simply, covering my hands with his. "All of those things and more. The woman who stands beside me as we rebuild the Ravelli empire."

Luca takes my hand simply, and as if this is just another day, he leads me to breakfast.

The dining room in Luca's wing feels both too large and too intimate for the occasion. Teresa has outdone herself, laying out a spread fit for royalty—fresh pastries, fruits arranged like jewels, coffee steaming in delicate porcelain that once belonged to Elena.

But it's the people gathered around the table that make the scene surreal.

Nico sits to Luca's right, face carefully composed in the darkness of the day. Alessio stands by the door, ever vigilant, black suit impeccable despite the night's violence. And a few trusted captains—men whose loyalty was tested and confirmed in the chaos following Vito's death—occupy the remaining seats.

I take my place at Luca's left, feeling the weight of their gazes. Some curious, some assessing, all of them watchful.

"My father's passing marks the end of an era," Luca begins, voice steady and authoritative. "And the beginning of a new one."

Murmurs of agreement ripple around the table. No one mentions the absence of Dante. No one dares.

"The transition will be seamless," Luca continues. "Business continues as usual. Our partners will be informed of leadership changes through the appropriate channels."

Nico leans forward. "And the Volkovs? They'll see this as an opportunity."

Luca's smile is sharp enough to cut. "Let them. We are prepared."

The meeting continues, discussions of territory and business flowing around me as I sip tea that tastes like nothing. Words like "enforcement," "messaging," and "examples" float through the air, each carrying the weight of violence to come.

I should be horrified. I used to sit here and plan my escape from this world of casual brutality.

Today, the morning after I killed the most infamous mafia king to rule this continent, I find myself listening intently, absorbing the rhythms and rules of this new reality. Learning what it means to be the woman at Luca Ravelli's side.

The woman who killed to protect what's hers.

After breakfast, when the men have dispersed to carry out Luca's orders, Teresa finds me in the garden. I've been sitting here for almost an hour, watching bees drift lazily between flowers that will soon die with the approaching winter.

"You haven't eaten much today," she says, settling beside me on the stone bench. "The baby needs nourishment."

My hand drifts to my stomach. "I know. I'll try harder. Soon."

Teresa studies me. "You think you're the first woman in this family to do what was necessary?"

The question catches me off guard. "What?"

"Elena Ravelli killed a man once. To protect Luca." Teresa's voice drops lower, though no one is near enough to hear. "He was eight years old. A rival family member broke into the estate, intending to kidnap Vito's heir as a form of punishment. Elena found the man in Luca's bedroom."