Chapter 3 - THE WEIGHT OF THE CROWN
The penthouse occupied the top three floors of the glass-and-steel tower overlooking the black, churning waters of Blackridge harbor. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the shipping cranes and cargo ships that served as the beating heart of the Moretti empire.
Inside, the atmosphere was sterile, minimalist, and meticulously guarded.
Chloe walked straight to the kitchen island, pouring herself a glass of ice water. Her hands shook slightly—not from the shooting, but from the sudden, terrifying reality that her quiet life as an anonymous bakery owner was officially dead.
“The media is already running the story,” a soft voice announced.
Elena, Leo’s trusted chief of staff and intelligence coordinator, stepped out from the study holding a tablet. Her expression was grave. “Social media is trending with clips from the bakery. ‘The Mafia King’s Heir.’ That’s the headline every news outlet is using. Pictures of you and Mr. Moretti leaving the scene are plastered everywhere.”
Chloe closed her eyes, taking a slow sip of water. “And Bradley?”
“Mr. Hayes is currently panicking,” Elena said, offering a faint, humorless smile. “His stock options dropped two points within twenty minutes of the news breaking. He’s trying to secure meetings with our corporate liaisons to apologize, but Leo’s orders are absolute. No one talks to him.”
Leo walked into the kitchen, shedding his overcoat to reveal a charcoal vest fitted perfectly across his broad shoulders. He tossed the coat onto a leather chair and walked up behind Chloe, stopping just inches away. He didn't touch her, but his presence dominated the room.
“Leave us, Elena,” Leo commanded.
The intelligence coordinator nodded once and slipped silently out of the room, closing the heavy oak doors behind her.
Chloe turned around, leaning back against the marble counter. “You’ve turned my life into a spectacle.”
“Your life was already vulnerable,” Leo corrected, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating off his chest. “In the shadows, you were an easy target for anyone wanting to strike at me through your brother. Now, everyone knows you belong to the Moretti family. No one will dare touch a hair on your head.”
“Except the people who want to assassinate your bloodline,” Chloe shot back, her green eyes flashing. “By declaring to the whole city that I’m carrying your heir, you just painted a massive target on my belly!”
“They already knew,” Leo said, his voice dropping to a low, intense rumble. “My enemies have eyes everywhere, Chloe. They knew you visited my casino four months ago. They knew Adrian stole millions from my vault. They knew I spared his life on one condition. Keeping it a secret wouldn't have protected you; it would have made you complacent.”
He reached out, his large, calloused fingers gently cupping her chin. His touch was electric, demanding yet surprisingly tender.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
“I didn't sign up for this kind of trust,” she breathed, though she didn't pull away. “I signed a contract. An arrangement. I give you an heir to clear my brother’s debt, and you give us safe passage out of this city when the child is born.”
Leo’s thumb stroked her lower lip. “Terms can be renegotiated.”
“No,” Chloe said firmly, stepping back and breaking his grip. “The terms stay the same. The moment this baby is born, I am walking out of here.”
May you like
Leo stared at her for a long, silent moment. His eyes were dark, unfathomable oceans hiding secrets she had spent months trying to decode.
“We will see,” he said softly.
