Chapter 8 - The Queen’s Ledger
Two weeks later.
The quiet of the Costa estate had been completely restored, though it was a very different kind of quiet than before.
The broken glass of the conservatory had been replaced with reinforced bulletproof crystal. The security detail had been doubled, but inside the main house, the atmosphere was warm and alive.
Chloe sat at the massive oak desk in Luciano’s private study—the very desk where Celeste had laid the yellowed binder three weeks ago.
She wasn't holding a duster. She was holding a leather ledger, reviewing the operational accounts of the estate’s legal shipping logistics, cross-referencing shipping permits with union rosters. Her sharp eye for detail had already saved the family business over two hundred thousand dollars in fraudulent vendor fees.
The study doors opened softly.
Luciano walked in, shedding his jacket and tossing it onto the sofa. He walked straight over to the desk, leaning down to press a deep, warm kiss against her lips.
"You're working late, Mrs. Costa," he murmured against her mouth.
"Someone has to keep your accountants honest," Chloe smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. "How was the meeting with the harbor master?"
"Boring," Luciano smiled, resting his forehead against hers. "He spent an hour complaining about the fuel taxes until I reminded him that his son just received a full scholarship to Columbia University courtesy of the Costa Foundation."
Chloe laughed—that rich, warm, chest-deep laugh that had first broken his cold exterior in the conference hall a month ago.
"You are terrible," she said fondly.
"I am a businessman," he corrected softly, his hand slipping beneath her chin, lifting her face to look into his dark hazel eyes. "A businessman who happens to be madly, hopelessly in love with his wife."
Chloe’s heart fluttered, as it did every time he said those words. "Say it again."
"I love you, Claudia-Chloe," Luciano whispered, using both her true Sicilian name and the name she had carried through the dark years. "I will love you until the day my heart stops beating."
"Good," Chloe murmured, leaning up to kiss him. "Because we have a small problem."
Luciano raised an eyebrow. "A problem? Has Bellini’s remnant clan tried something?"
"No," Chloe smiled, taking his big, rough hand and placing it gently against her flat stomach, beneath the soft wool of her dress. "A domestic problem. Mr. Hart informed me this morning that we are going to need to convert the entire east wing suite into a nursery by next spring."
Luciano froze.
The ruthless Boss of the East Coast, the man who had faced down twenty armed men without blinking, went completely pale. His hazel eyes dropped to her hand resting over her stomach, then snapped back up to her glowing, radiant face.
"Are you..." his voice cracked faintly. "Is it...?"
"You're going to be a father, Luciano," Chloe whispered, tears of joy shining in her hazel eyes. "An actual, real, non-fake father."
A look of pure, unadulterated awe swept across Luciano’s face—a warmth so profound it erased every trace of the hard, dangerous life he had lived.
May you like
He dropped to his knees in front of her chair, wrapping his powerful arms around her waist, burying his face against her lap, his body trembling with a deep, silent joy.
"My queen," Luciano choked out, kissing her stomach through the fabric of her dress. "My beautiful, perfect queen."
