LOGINChapter 59 Maya The second time Ryan makes love to me that morning, it's different. Desperate. Claiming. Like he needs to brand himself into my skin before the world tears us apart. I'm on my back, legs wrapped around his waist, nails scoring his shoulders as he drives into me with single-minded intensity. "Mine," he growls against my throat. "Say it." "Yours," I gasp. "Always yours." "Damn right." His pace increases, chasing something that feels like possession. "Tomorrow you're my wife. Legally, publicly, irrevocably mine." "Ryan—" I'm close, so close, teetering on the edge. "Come for me again , Maya. Let me feel it." I shatter around him, and he follows immediately, burying himself deep with a groan that sounds like prayer and claiming all at once. We're still catching our breath when my phone rings again. "Ignore it," Ryan murmurs, kissing my shoulder. "I can't. Not today." I reach for it. Thandiwe's name flashes on the screen. "Maya, turn on the news.
Maya I wake up tangled in Ryan's arms, sore in the best possible way, and for one perfect moment, I forget everything except how good this feels. Then my phone starts ringing. I groan, reaching for it blindly. "What time is it?" "Six AM," Ryan mumbles, his arm tightening around my waist. "Ignore it." "I can't. Could be the team—" I check the screen and freeze. Detective Nkosi. I sit up abruptly, suddenly wide awake. "I have to take this." Ryan releases me reluctantly, and I answer. "Detective?" "Miss Rossi. I wanted to give you advance notice. We're executing the warrants in one hour. Both Lorenzo Zurri and Antonio Rossi will be taken into custody at their respective residences." My stomach drops. "One hour?" "Yes. I'm sorry for the early call, but I thought you'd want to know before it hits the news." She pauses. "Have you made a decision about the immunity deal?" I look at Ryan, who's sitting up now, watching me with worried eyes. "Yes," I say quietly. "I'll testify. Wh
The silence in the hotel suite isn't just quiet; it’s heavy. It’s the kind of silence that exists in the eye of a hurricane, where you know the world outside is being torn apart, but for a few fleeting seconds, the air is perfectly still.The scent of expensive champagne and Maya’s vanilla perfume lingers in the room, a reminder of the public theater we just performed. Outside that window, the city lights of Chicago are a blurred mosaic of gold and white, but here, the only thing that matters is the heat radiating from the woman curled against me."You're thinking too much," I murmured. My voice is a low vibration, rougher than I intended. I press my lips to her temple, feeling the pulse there. It’s fast—too fast for someone who’s supposed to be celebrating. "Hmm.""I can practically hear the gears turning, Maya. Give it a rest for tonight."She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow. Her hair spills across the white silk pillows like an ink stain, framing a face that has haunted m
Chapter 56 The Falcons win in overtime. 4-3. Championship. The moment the buzzer sounds, the arena doesn't just explode it ruptures. Sound becomes a physical thing, a pressure wave that hits my sternum and stays there. Fifty thousand people on their feet. The ice a chaos of bodies colliding, helmets flying, grown men collapsing onto each other in tears. I'm standing in the tunnel mouth where I've been for the last six minutes of overtime, unable to breathe properly, my clipboard crushed against my chest with both arms like it might save me from drowning. I watch Luca drop to his knees at center ice and press his forehead to the surface, and something in my throat tightens so hard it hurts. We did it! Immediately, the machinery kicks in. Press handlers appear from nowhere. Someone thrusts a microphone toward me. Two cameras swing in my direction and I know, professionally, that my face needs to do something appropriate joy, triumph, controlled celebration. I know how to perform t
Chapter 55 Ryan The Falcons are down by two goals going into the third period. I'm sitting in Section 112 (they didn't have 108), watching Maya pace in the executive box across the arena. Even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she's gripping her phone. The championship is slipping away, there's nothing she can do but watch. I pull out my phone and text the arena's operations manager,a contact Carlo secured for me an hour ago. I need a favor. During the next commercial break, I need access to the jumbotron. Thirty seconds. Can you make it happen? That's highly unusual, Mr. Zurri. I'll make a substantial donation to your arena renovation fund. Name your price. ...I'll see what I can do. Twenty minutes into the third period, the Falcons score. 3-2 now, still down by one. The arena erupts. Maya is on her feet, fist pumping, looking more alive than she has in days. Then, during the next stoppage of play, the jumbotron lights up. Not with a
Chapter 54 Maya The championship game is in four hours, and I am standing in the locker room watching my team, and thinking that if I look at any one of them too long, I am going to cry. I can't cry. I won't. I clear my throat instead. Let the silence do its work first, let it fill the room the way silence only can before something enormous, before something that cannot be undone. Twenty-three faces turn toward me. Sweaty. Scared. Ready. These women have bled for this season. I have watched them bleed. I have handed them ice packs and told them to get back out there, and they did, every single time, because that is what this team does. That is who we are. "This is what we've worked for all season," I tell them, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel, steadier than I deserve given everything that is currently unraveling inside my chest. "Every five a.m. practice when the ice was still dark and your legs were still asleep. Every sacrifice the birthdays you missed, the din
Chapter 22Maya The next day in Bloemfontein is deceptively beautiful, the kind of day that seems designed to mock internal winter. The sun is high and golden, pouring down with obscene generosity, warming the streets and painting the city in shades of amber and rose. We sit on a hidden patio drap
Chapter 18 Maya The party moved from the dining room to the lounge, the music swelling into something jazzier, more hedonistic, the kind of music that encourages bad decisions and expensive regrets. I get caught in a conversation with a group of investors, nodding and smiling while my mind is
RyanThe summit location was changed it was now being held at the Mount Nelson Hotel, neutral ground chosen specifically because neither family owns it. The pink landmark sits imposing and elegant, a reminder of old Cape Town money and colonial power.Perfect place for two criminal empires to negot
Chapter 13 Maya The drive to the Commodore takes fifteen minutes. I spend it oscillating between fury and something that feels dangerously like vindication. Jeremy wasn't devoted. He was using me, probably for access to the family, to information. Or maybe he just wanted both Rossi sisters and







