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"Listen up," Giovanni continues, unfazed by the tension in the room. "You have two choices. The first is to die, which is my preference," he smirks. "And the second is to leave Miami and never return."
Alejandro laughs, bitterness lacing his voice. "Why would I do that?"
"Simple," Giovanni replies, his stare icy. "You maintain your men with money, and you make money through drugs. I did a little digging through your systems. And, you know what I found?"
Alejandro remains silent, but Giovanni continues.
"What I found was that the only way you get those drugs is through a specific shipping company. One that agreed to import your heroin for a kickback." He glances down at his watch, his expression smug. "As of three minutes ago, I just became the proud new owner of that shipping company, and the contract to transport illegal substances is hereby terminated."
Alejandro's anger boils over, his fists balled at his sides. I can see the rage building within him, and yet Giovanni remains unfazed, staring him down with a calm that sends shivers down my spine.
"Choose," Giovanni repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Die or leave."
The room is thick with tension, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy fog, and all I can think about is how grateful I am to have this man by my side, fighting for me when no one else would.
Alejandro's eyes dart around the room as he realizes his men are outnumbered. He calls out to them, desperation lacing his words, urging them to fight back. Yet, no one moves an inch, their loyalty wavering in the face of Giovanni's show of strength.
Giovanni laughs, a deep rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "I don't speak Spanish as well as I speak Italian, but I understand the gist of what you said," he tells Alejandro. "And they're not going to fight for you. So, once again: leave or die."
Alejandro clenches his fists, rage and defeat contorting his features, then reluctantly makes the slow walk down the aisle, past all the men who abandoned him. As I turn to Giovanni, a wave of relief washes over me – it feels like coming up for air after being submerged for too long. His gaze is both protective and tender, making me feel safer than I have in a very long time.
"Are you really going to let him go?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. "What about my family?"
"Your family is safe and with my men," Giovanni assures me, his voice calm and steady. His words bring me a sense of comfort I didn't know I needed.
I swallow thickly. "Then, there's something I need to do. Something I've been putting off since this nightmare began. I just hope you'll still love and support me after I do this," I say, looking into Giovanni's eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.
"Of course," he replies without missing a beat, his devotion steadfast even before knowing what I'm about to do. My heart swells with love for him and I know I don't want anyone at my side but him.
"Give me your handgun," I say, my voice firm.
Without question, he places the cold metal of the gun in my hand. I let the cloth from the altar fall to the floor and step out of the remnants of my wedding gown, leaving me clad only in thigh-high white stockings with delicate lace tops and a pair of exquisite white satin pumps.
As I walk down the aisle, the cold air kissing my exposed skin, I call out Alejandro's name. He turns around, confusion etched on his face. The metal of the gun feels heavy and unforgiving in my hand, its purpose clear. I raise it, steadying my aim, and without a second thought, I pull the trigger.
ChapterForty-Five
The spring of the gun jerks against my palm, the sound of the gunshot ringing in my ears like a deafening crack of thunder, even though I know it isn't that loud. Time seems to slow as Alejandro drops to the ground, blood pouring from the bullet wound in his forehead.
The hushed whispers of the men hang in the air like a heavy fog as I stand over Alejandro's lifeless body, my heel planted firmly on his chest. Naked and unashamed, I spit on him, the last remnants of my fear and humiliation dripping from my lips.
I lift my gaze to the sea of faces before me, their eyes wide with shock and awe. In Spanish, my voice unwavering, I tell them, "My name is Lucia Manuel, and I am the daughter of no man. I claim Miami in my own right. With the death of Alejandro, the violence ends, and a new era begins under my rule." My eyes pierce each of theirs, demanding submission. "Will you follow me?"
I hold my hand out, palm up, an offering and a challenge. Stunned silence fills the church, punctuated by shallow breaths and the distant hum of the city outside these walls.
A moment hangs suspended in time, and then the first of El Lobo's men slowly approaches me, his gaze never leaving mine. One of Giovanni's men moves to intercept him, but I motion for him to stand down. The man stops in front of me, sinking to his knees, and kisses my hand before rising and leaving the church unharmed. A symbolic gesture, one by one, each of El Lobo's men follows suit, until there is no one left but me, Giovanni, and his loyal soldiers.
Giovanni gazes at me with such reverence it feels almost holy. He walks towards me, his steps slow and measured, and stops before me. To the gasps of his men, he sinks to one knee, his dark eyes locked onto mine.
"Lucia Manuel," he says solemnly, "I pledge the allegiance of the Maldonado family to you."
As he speaks, I feel the weight of his words settling on my shoulders, a mantle I never expected to wear. But along with that weight comes an undeniable sense of power, of potential.
"From the moment I met you," he continues, "I have been captivated by your strength, your resilience, and your indomitable spirit. I respect you, Lucia, and I care for you more than I ever thought possible." His voice trembles slightly, as if the emotions behind his words are almost too much to bear. "I love you, and I cannot imagine living without you."
My heart races in my chest, a wild thing caged by bone and flesh, as Giovanni reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. He opens it, revealing a ring set with a stunning diamond that seems to capture the light from the candles surrounding us.
"Lucia Manuel," he says, his voice thick with emotion, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
