Chapter 10 - The Sovereign's Queen
Dawn broke over the Atlantic Ocean, casting a brilliant gold and pink light across the grand stone façade of the Sterling estate.
Maya sat on the private balcony of the master suite, wrapped in a heavy cashmere robe, watching the sun rise over the ocean. The rain had cleared, leaving the morning air crisp, sharp, and clean.
She heard the soft click of the bedroom door opening.
She stood up, her heart leaping into her throat as she walked back into the room.
Silas stood in the doorway. He looked exhausted, his hair messy, his charcoal coat splattered with mud and soot, but he was alive. Unbroken. Victorious.
He stopped, staring at her across the vast room.
Maya didn't hesitate. She ran across the room, throwing herself into his arms. Silas caught her easily, pulling her tight against his chest, burying his face into her soft hair as he lifted her off the floor.
"You came back," she breathed, tears of relief falling onto his shoulder.
"I promised you I would," Silas murmured, his strong arms holding her as if she were the most precious treasure in his empire.
He carried her over to the plush velvet sofa near the fireplace, sitting down with her resting securely on his lap. He looked at her pale, beautiful face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears.
"Your mother was transferred to the recovery wing this morning," Silas said softly. "The doctors say the new treatment is working beyond expectations. Her lung capacity is improving. She will be discharged next month to a private estate in Upstate New York."
Maya choked back a sob, resting her forehead against his chest. "Thank you, Silas. Thank you."
"Do not thank me, Maya," Silas said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles. "Everything I have, everything I rule, is yours. You walked into my pantry a starving waitress looking for scraps. You are leaving it as the queen of this empire."
Maya looked at him—at the ruthless crime lord who had brought the underworld to its knees, yet held her with a softness that proved his heart belonged entirely to her.
She smiled through her tears, reaching up to trace the scar along his jawline.
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"I didn't steal scraps, Silas," she whispered, leaning in until her lips brushed against his. "I stole your heart."
Silas smiled—a rare, genuine, blindingly beautiful smile that illuminated his dark features. He pulled her down into a deep, passionate kiss as the golden morning light flooded the room, sealing a destiny forged in the freezing dark of a billionaire's pantry.
