Chapter 8 - The Dawn of the Empire
By sunrise, the rain had stopped.
A soft, golden sunlight broke over the calm blue waters of Lake Michigan, illuminating the wet stones of the Marino compound.
Inside the estate's private medical wing, Bella sat beside a high bed, holding a warm washcloth, gently wiping the dried blood from Marco’s shoulder.
Marco sat up, his upper chest bandaged, his dark eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"You shouldn't have been looking at those harbor blueprints," Marco murmured, his voice low and raspy.
"I’m an architect, Marco," Bella smiled softly, wringing out the cloth in a silver bowl of warm water. "I look at everything."
"You saved my life, Bella," Marco said quietly.
"You saved mine in Pilsen," she replied, setting the cloth down. "I guess we're even."
Marco reached out, his large, warm hand taking hers, pulling her gently toward him until she was standing between his knees.
"We will never be even, Bella," Marco whispered, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her jawline. "For eight years, I lived in a world of blood, strategy, and cold stone. I thought power was the only thing that kept a man alive."
He pulled her closer, his thumb gently touching her lips.
"Then a brave girl stepped into the rain to pick up my mother’s oranges," Marco murmured, his dark eyes burning with pure, unadulterated love. "And she brought light into a dark house."
Bella’s heart hammered against her ribs, but not from fear.
"Marco..." she whispered.
Marco leaned up, his lips meeting hers in a deep, passionate, possessive kiss that wiped away every memory of her past, every fear of the future, and bound her heart to his forever.
When he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, Bella smiled through warm tears of joy.
"Does this mean I'm officially part of the family?" Bella teased softly.
May you like
Marco smiled—a brilliant, breathtaking smile.
"Not yet," Marco said. "First, I have to give you a ring."
