The Underboss’s Doormat Wife Is The Don’s Queen Chapter 11
The Don’s Queen
I seal the last moving box with tape.
My phone rings.
It’s a number I don’t recognize.
I answer.
“Aria, are you really leaving the Syndicate?” one of Dante’s former lieutenants asks. “Dante built this territory from the ground up.”
I almost laugh.
“Dante didn’t build anything.”
“I designed the operating structure. I wrote the expansion plans for this entire territory. Dante just put his name on my work.”
The other end goes silent.
“If you contact me again, I’ll send the original blueprints straight to the Feds.”
I block the number.
I carry my box outside.
A black Maybach waits at the curb in front of my gate.
Lorenzo steps out in a tailored black suit.
Without saying a word, he walks past me and into the house.
He drops a thick file onto my coffee table.
“Ten years for Victor. A lifetime of looking over her shoulder for Mia,” Lorenzo says.
“You cleaned house.”
I walk inside and drop my keys on the counter.
Lorenzo steps closer until only inches separate us.
I don’t move.
I look up at him.
“You knew Dante was just the face of the operation,” I say.
“I always knew.”
“I watched you pretend to be helpless for years. I was waiting to see when you’d finally drop the act.”
He taps the file on the table.
“That’s the official transfer of Dante’s territory.”
“I need the person who was actually running it.”
I look at the file, then back at him.
“I don’t work for free.”
Lorenzo’s hand slides behind my neck, his fingers threading through my hair as he pulls me closer.
My chest presses against his suit.
Tobacco and cedar fill the space between us.
“I’m not offering you a job,” he says, lowering his head until his lips brush my ear.
“I’m offering you half my empire.”
He turns his face and kisses me.
The kiss is hard and immediate. His free hand closes around my waist, pulling me against him until the edge of the desk presses into my back.
I grab his lapels and kiss him back.
For a few seconds, the only sound in the room is our breathing.
Lorenzo pulls away but keeps his hands on my waist.
“Take my seat one day,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
“Be my Queen.”
I reach for the pen on the table.
Then I sign my name.