Page 56

For the lovely readers who really wanted to see Dante and Lucien together in one frame. Here's the chapter for you guys.

Please let me know if u liked it.

The late afternoon sun cast molten light over the sleek stretch of road outside the coastal private resort.

The exclusive café nestled atop the cliffs-Veleno Nero-wasn't marked on any public maps. Only the elite dined here.

Two beasts met in its shadow.

A matte black Bugatti La Voiture Noire slid into the drive, polished obsidian humming with dark power.

The doors opened, and the world held its breath. Dante Valencourt stepped out.

He wore black. A bespoke silk shirt, fitted like it had been painted on, sleeves rolled just enough to bare his veined forearms-lethal, masculine. His Rolex flashed under the sinking sun.

Hair slicked back, dark with streaks of gold at the temples, and eyes-wolfish and cold.

He didn't need to speak. The guards fanned out around him like shadows, their earpieces glinting.

Then, another silence fell.

A Rolls-Royce Cullinan ghosted in, its chrome grille snarling. Doors opened.

Lucien Thorne stepped out like a Greek god carved from obsidian.

His hair, undercut and styled, caught the wind. Thin, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his aquiline nose, reflecting sun off his pale gray eyes.

The tailored black ensemble wrapped around his tall, muscular frame like sin itself. A single serpent ring adorned his hand.

His guards mirrored Dante's-stoic, polished, terrifying.

The café fell into reverent silence. The two mafia kings strode toward one another, the earth seemingly bowing beneath their footsteps.

No words at first. Just the clink of metal as both men's lead guards not Alejandro as he's left with Lucien's wife Sorina and his son son back at home to protect them in his absence.

They stepped forward, exchanging two gifts: an obsidian-and-gold dagger from Lucien, and a 17th-century pocket watch encrusted with rubies from Dante.

The gifts were placed in their respective cars. No ceremony. Just weight.

Then, Dante smirked, the faintest twitch of his mouth. "Wife and son?"

"My both Queen and son are doing very well," Lucien replied. "Yours?"

Dante's smirk sharpened. "Driving me mad. Just how I like her."

They walked in, flanked by guards who swept the café first. The staff had cleared the place upon advance request.

Only two booths remained occupied-by their own.

They sat by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Beyond, the ocean clawed at jagged rocks.

Lucien leaned back first, lounging like a serpent uncoiling. "How's life here "

"California's not quiet," Dante murmured.

"We found two of Roza's old enforcers hiding near Baja," Dante said. "Made them sing. Then buried the voices."

Lucien chuckled. "Music to my ears. You still take them to the pier first?"

Dante nodded. "Nothing beats waterboarding with ocean views."

The waiter approached. Both men looked at him once. He nearly dropped the menu.

"Sir?"

"Black coffee," Dante said.

"Neat whiskey and lemon peel," Lucien added.

The man nodded and vanished.

They talked about shipments, laundering routes, fake IDs, and casino fronts-all in calm, elegant tones. Anyone listening would think they were discussing stock portfolios.

Then Lucien's voice dropped. "I heard about the beach house."

Dante's jaw twitched. "Just to incraese love between us"

Lucien studied him. "Does she fear you?"

"She fears losing me more."

Lucien gave a soft, approving laugh. "That's the real chokehold."

The guards never sat. They stood, hands folded in front, eyes scanning every shadow.

A couple across the plaza dared a glance. One of Dante's guards stepped forward. The couple looked away instantly.

"Did carve her name into your flesh?" Dante asked, amused.

"I carved it into my heart," Lucien said darkly. "The flesh is nothing."

Dante nodded slowly. "Good. Obsession sharpens the empire."

They drank in silence.

Lucien finally leaned forward. "You need help with anything?"

Dante shook his head. "All is handled. I'm thinking Europe next."

"For Isolde?"

"For control. And her safety. I won't make the same mistake twice."

Lucien stood. "Then let me send you something."

From behind him, one of his guards brought forth a silver briefcase.

He clicked it open-inside, documents, offshore bank routing codes, and a necklace of black opals.

"For her," Lucien said. "And for your war."

Dante rose, took the case.

"You're still the devil," Dante murmured.

Lucien smirked. "We're the same. Just in different suits."

They walked out under the dying sun, the cliff winds wrapping around them like cloaks.

Kings did not bow.

They let the world do that for them.