Three Days in the Morgue Made Me His Queen

"Ma'am. The Boss is going to the casino alone tonight. You don't need to go." Marco, the butler, wouldn't look me in the eye.

"He thinks I'm tired from surgeries." I clipped on my earrings. "It's fine. I'll go check on him."

Three years of marriage. That VIP floor? I always walked in there on Killian's arm. Always.

But for the last six months? He said he didn't need me. I didn't listen tonight.

The elevator hit the top floor. The gold-rimmed door at the end of the hall. It was cracked open. Voices slipped out.

"Boss, is this Miss Hayes? She's beautiful." A new guy. Kissing up.

"Yeah. My personal medic." Killian sounded lazy. "As for my wife..."

He paused. I heard the sneer in his voice. "She lives in the morgue. She reeks of formalin and blood. Bringing her here? Kills the mood."

But his knuckles were white around his glass. I knew. Mexican cartels were coming tonight. Highly dangerous. He used cruel words to keep me away. Keep me safe. But his eyes on Brielle? They were soft. Too soft. I couldn't ignore it.

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Three years ago. Some rival idiot mocked me. Called me "the corpse woman" in front of a whole room.

Killian pulled his gun. Shot the guy through the jaw. Right there.

"Valerie Pierce is my woman. She saved my life." He stood by the blood pool. Voice like ice. "Disrespect her? You war with my whole family."

After that? No one breathed a bad word about my job. Not on Rossi turf.

Now? The same cruel words. Coming from his own mouth. He said it like he was talking about the weather.

I pushed the door open a bit more.

Warm light. Brielle leaned against his chest. Her fingers traced his open collar.

There should be a heartbeat tattoo there.

Five years ago. He got shot. I traced cut marks on his chest with my finger. Directing the nurses. He tattooed that exact line. He said his body had to remember. Remember who pulled him from death.

Now? The heartbeat was gone. Covered up. The new ink was still red and swollen.

"B.H."

Brielle Hayes.

I stood there. Something ripped open inside my chest.

"Killian," Brielle cooed. Soft. Sickening. "My first time here. I'm so nervous."

"I'm here. No one will touch a hair on your head."

He leaned down. He kissed her. But just a chaste kiss on the forehead. Then he turned his head away. He looked annoyed. His eyes drifted toward the door. Like he was looking for a ghost. But still. He held her.

Five years ago. He kissed me just like that.

My phone buzzed.

[Got cargo at the docks. Not coming home tonight. - K]

Not one extra word.

I stared at the text. I remembered the winter five years ago.

Killian's uncle teamed up with three bosses. Framed him for his stepdad's murder. The whole family waited for him to drown in the Hudson.

I locked myself in the morgue. Three days without sleep. I checked angles. Traced evidence in three bodies. I found the proof to clear him.

Those three days? Killian sat outside my door. Bleeding from a gunshot. He refused to leave.

After he was cleared, he chased me. A ruthless man? He bought out my favorite five-star restaurant. Hired Michelin chefs to cater my lunches.

He delivered them himself. Rain or shine. He even canceled hundred-million-dollar arms deals for it.

I rejected everything. "Doctors have ethics. Don't bring me trouble."

Until that explosion. The site collapsed again. I was checking evidence. I didn't see the falling beam.

Killian rushed in out of nowhere. He shielded me. A burning steel beam smashed his back. He coughed up blood. His last words before passing out? "Don't look up. You'll get hurt."

I caved after that.

Two years. On my birthday, he hired helicopters. Three nights of fireworks over the city. He proposed.

On our wedding day. The old Don, Salvatore. He pressed a silver family crest ring into my palm.

"A Rossi marker. A blood oath." The old man's voice was raspy. "Call this number. Ask for anything. I will grant it. No conditions."

Five years. I never used that ring.

I stood outside the room. Watched Killian hold Brielle. They walked to the elevator. Heading for his bulletproof SUV in the garage.

I pulled out my phone. Found the number.

Two rings.

"Valerie?" Salvatore sounded surprised. "Calling this late. What happened?"

"Nothing." My voice was dead. It didn't sound like me. "I want to cash in my promise."

Silence.

"What do you want?"

"A divorce."

The words were out. I thought I would break. I thought I would cry.

But nothing.

Just a cold, empty feeling. Like floating in ice water. The pain was gone.

"Are you sure?" The old man turned serious. "Valerie. Once this starts, there is no going back. Killian will—"

"I'm sure." I cut him off. "This is my only request."

A long silence. I pictured him in his study. Tapping his desk. Weighing family honor against mob rules.

He sighed.

"Okay."

"You will get the papers in a month."