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I move to the window overlooking the estate—the sprawling grounds, the security perimeter, the London skyline beyond. From this vantage point, the Ravelli empire seems invincible, unassailable.

Yet I know better now.

No kingdom is without threats. No crown without challengers.

Luca joins me at the window, his arm sliding around my waist. "Are you afraid?"

I consider the question, hand still resting on our growing child.

"No," I answer truthfully. "Not anymore."

And as the words leave my lips, I feel it—a flutter beneath my palm. A small, definitive movement.

"Luca," I breathe, grabbing his hand and pressing it against the spot. "The baby—"

For a moment, nothing happens. Then it comes again, stronger this time. A kick. A sign of life.

Luca's expression transforms, wonder replacing rage as he feels his child move beneath his hand. For a heartbeat, he isn't the Don, the killer, the avenger. He's simply a man connecting with the life he's created.

"Let him come," I say, steel beneath my voice as I cover Luca's hand with mine, our child kicking between us. "Dante, the Volkovs, whoever dares. Let them all come."

Luca's eyes meet mine, dark with promise and possession.

As dusk settles over our empire, we stand silhouetted against the London skyline, powerful and united against whatever storm approaches. No longer the hotel maid and the monster who claimed her, but partners in a dynasty built on both blood and choice.

The king and his queen. The wolf and his rabbit. Forever bound by darkness, by passion, and by the life now stirring between us.

Let them come.

The Poisoned Queen is waiting.