Page 49 of Shadows of Steel

I smirk, letting him glower all he wants.

Niccolò steps up next, slower. He doesn’t reach for her immediately, just tilts his head, dark amusement glinting behind the cold detachment in his stare. “Strange. Never imagined having a little sister. But now that I do...” His smirk is all teeth. “Guess I’ll have to start collecting bodies for you, huh?”

Harlow lets out a short laugh, but I don’t miss the flicker of unease in her expression. “You sound a little too excited about that.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “What can I say? Some men deserve it.” His gaze slides to me. “Maybe I should start with your husband.”

I turn to him, meeting his stare head on. “That wasn’t a threat, was it? Even you aren’t that fucking stupid.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, but there’s no humour in it. The way he said it, calm, matter of fact, like he’s already picturing my body in a grave, tells me he means it.

I smirk. Good.

Before Harlow can respond, he pulls her in for a quick embrace, a sharp contrast to the cold detachment that lingered just moments before. Then, just as fast, he releases her and steps back, his eyes cutting to me one last time.

And then, there’s Darion. The eldest. His gaze lingers on me first, and I meet it unbothered. Finally, without a word, he moves past, and grips Harlow, pulling her in with an unyielding hold. No restraint.

“You’re a Ricci,” he murmurs against her hair. “That means something. That carries weight. And whether you wanted this or not, you don’t stand alone.”

His grip tightens, just slightly, before he releases her. When he pulls back, he doesn’t let her go completely, not right away. Harlow blinks, her composure slipping just for a fraction of a second before she schools her features again.

I smirk, watching as she absorbs it all.

A family she never sought.

Men who would raze kingdoms in her name.

Men who would relish the chance to see me reduced to ash.

Not that it matters.

Because whether they accept it or not, she wears my name now. And any second thoughts are far too late.

Giovanni’s gaze settles on me once more, steady and weighted. “I trust you’ll remember what she means to us now.”

I meet his stare. “No need to remind me. She belongs to me, and I protect what’s mine. Stay out of it.”

His expression doesn’t shift, not at first. Then, with a nod, he concedes. Nothing more. No parting words, no final warnings. And just like that, the Riccis step away, fading into the sea of power that floods the room.

I turn my attention back to Harlow, watching the slight movement of her fingers as they tighten around the stem of her champagne glass. Not a flicker of emotion crosses her face.

“Didn’t expect all that attention, did you?” My voice is low, edged with amusement.

She exhales. “Not exactly.”

I smirk. “Get used to it, leonessa. You’re not just anyone anymore.”

Her gaze lifts to mine, cool and steady. “I never was.”

And that’s what I like about her.

She doesn’t bend.

She doesn’t break.

***

The wedding progresses in waves of conversation and formalities, each moment blurring into the next. But soon it’s time for our wedding dance.