Chapter 10 - THE NEW DAWN
Three months later.
Spring had arrived in Boston. The gardens of Blackwood Manor were bursting with vibrant colors—red tulips, white roses, and fresh green grass glittering under a warm morning sun.
The house was peaceful. Julian had been permanently exiled to a remote estate in South America under heavy guard, stripped of all family authority. The Valenti empire had completely dissolved, its leaders in European federal prisons, its assets liquidated or returned to the Saint-Claire recovery fund.
On the back terrace overlooking the sparkling ocean, a long wooden table was set for breakfast.
Genevieve sat at the head of the table, wearing a simple, elegant white summer dress. She was reading the morning financial papers, a cup of hot Earl Grey tea steaming beside her hand.
Nero lay across the stone patio in a sunbeam, lazily chewing on a large wooden stick, completely content.
Heavy, familiar footfalls sounded behind her.
Adrian stepped out onto the terrace, wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He didn't look like a feared mafia boss this morning. He looked relaxed, powerful, and deeply at peace.
He walked up behind her chair, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the side of her neck, his hands resting gently on her shoulders.
"Good morning, Chairwoman," Adrian murmured smoothly.
Genevieve smiled, leaning her head back against his chest. "Good morning, Mr. Blackwood."
Yesterday, the Swiss Banking Commission had officially restored Genevieve Saint-Claire as the sole controlling director of the Saint-Claire Financial Group. She was officially one of the wealthiest, most powerful women in North America and Europe.
"Your plane for Geneva leaves at three," Adrian reminded her, his thumbs gently rubbing her shoulders. "The board is waiting to swear you in."
Genevieve turned her head, looking up into his dark, beautiful eyes. "I spoke to the board this morning."
"And?"
"I transferred forty percent of the Saint-Claire liquid voting shares into a joint venture with Blackwood Enterprises," she said, her eyes twinkling with quiet mischief. "And I told them I would be managing the European division remotely... from Boston."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, a slow, breathtaking smile spreading across his face. "Is that so? And why would the great Genevieve Saint-Claire choose to stay in Boston?"
Genevieve stood up, turning around to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Because the cook here is terrible," she whispered playfully. "And the guard dog refuses to leave."
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Adrian laughed—a rich, deep sound that carried across the sunlit garden—and pulled her close, pressing his lips firmly against hers in a long, deep kiss that smelled of tea, sunshine, and forever.
Below the terrace, Nero lifted his sleek black head, gave a single happy thump of his tail against the warm stone, and went back to sleep in the sun.
