Chapter 10 - The Queen of Vale Tower
One year later.
The morning sun poured over the Chicago River, reflecting off the glittering glass of Vale Tower.
The lobby had been completely transformed. The dull, sterile corporate counter was gone. In its place stood a sprawling, world-class artisanal café: *The Golden Bean & Lever*.
Polished oak tables, lush hanging ferns, and the rich, intoxicating aroma of freshly ground Ethiopian beans filled the air. A line of customers stretched out the door, laughing and chatting in the morning light.
Behind the counter, Emma worked with effortless grace.
She wore a dark green apron over a fitted cream blouse. On her left hand, a five-carat flawless emerald ring caught the morning sunlight with every pour of steamed milk.
She was still soft, still curvy, still pink-cheeked when she laughed, but there was an unmistakable glow of absolute authority and radiant happiness about her.
The elevator doors chimed.
Silence rolled across the lobby as Adrian Vale stepped out.
He wore a tailored charcoal three-piece suit, looking every bit the feared, untouchable king of Chicago. Two bodyguards walked ten paces behind him.
He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't look at the executives who scurried out of his way.
His eyes locked onto Emma.
Adrian walked straight up to the register. The young barista trainee beside Emma froze, trembling in terror.
“M-Mr. Vale, sir!” the trainee stammered. “Can I—can I get you something?”
Adrian ignored the kid, leaning across the counter until his face was inches from Emma’s. His hard, predatory expression melted into a smile so tender it made the surrounding customers gasp.
“Good morning, Mrs. Vale,” he murmured.
“You’re late for your meeting with the maritime board,” Emma said playfully, wiping a spot of counter with a towel.
“The board can wait,” Adrian replied, reaching across to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “My wife hasn't given me my morning coffee yet.”
Emma smiled, turned around, and pulled a shot on a brand-new, custom-built steel machine. She topped it with velvety oat milk, drawing a perfect little heart on the foam, and handed the cup to him.
Adrian took a sip, closing his eyes in genuine bliss.
“Tastes like perfection,” he said softly.
“No poison?” she teased.
Adrian reached over, caught her hand, and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing her wedding ring in front of two hundred stunned onlookers.
May you like
“Only the kind that makes me addicted to you for the rest of my life,” he whispered.
Emma laughed, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek. The mob boss who had once vomited every morning in cold, lonely paranoia took his wife’s hand, smiled at the bustling room, and finally drank his coffee in peace.