The King Is Dead

I was kidnapped by my father's rivals.

Marcus Ivanov charged into their hideout alone, carving a bloody path of way out with me on his back.

He got played by his biggest rival.

I sold everything I owned, risked my life, backed his move, and watched him fight his way to the top, becoming the undisputed Kingpin of Port City.

They called us a pair of mad dogs, baring our teeth at the world, but only for each other.

He bought the biggest harbor to propose, promised me fireworks that would set the sky ablaze just for me.

Seven years later, the fireworks are lighting up the sky again, but the gossip rags are screaming that the Kingpin has found a new toy.

Some young piece got herself pregnant, throwing a fit to see fireworks.

But don't worry, baby. Stay sweet, and no one touches your spot as the Kingpin's wife.

I laughed at his condescending tone.

Then I had the bitchstripped naked and hung from a helicopter for a grand tour of the entire city.

Seems he forgot that half the Kingpin's throne has my name carved into it.

I made him a king. I can just as easily make him a ghost.

Marcus came home to find me trimming a bonsai in the living room.

The place was packed, a solid wall of his men. It felt less like a homecoming and more like he was preparing for a siege.

Serena Vasiliev. You've crossed a line this time.

You stripped Lily Ann bare, hung her up like a side of meat! How's she supposed to show her face after that?

She's twenty, Serena! Just a kid!

My hand slipped. The bonsai I'd nurtured for years was ruined.

I tossed the shears onto the table, wiped my hands clean on a cloth.

She liked the fireworks. I thought she'd appreciate the aerial view.

Why the angry?

Marcus kicked the table over. The priceless bonsai shattered on the floor.

Serena, Lily Ann isn't like you. Keep your dirty games away from her.

The words hit like a physical blow.

She's not like me.Of course she isn't.

Fifteen years. From the gutter to the penthouse, I clawed my way up right beside him.

The once-sheltered heiress got her hands dirty, bloody, all for him.

My once-soft hands are now mapped with scars from guns and blades.

I became this for him. And now he calls me dirty for another woman.

I smirked, a cold, sharp thing.

Get her a front-row seat to the show, and you lose your mind?

Remember when I went to war for you? I didn't see you thisfrantic then.

Marcus looked at me, exasperated.

Serena, what do you want?

I told you, she's no threat to your position. Just let it go, alright?

Crack! My palm snapped his head to the side.

A dozen guns cocked in unison, all aimed at me.

Jackson drew his, pressing it directly against Marcus's temple.

I ignored them. Slap after slap rained down on Marcus's face.

I only stopped when his cheek was swollen and blood trickled from his lip.

Marcus sent the nearest gunman flying with a single kick.

Who told you to aim at my wife?! Lower your weapons! NOW!

He took my hand, blew gently on my stinging palm.

Hitting me that hard does your hand hurt?

Looking at him, a wave of pure exhaustion washed over me.

I slapped the divorce papers down on the table between us.

Sign them. We're done.

Marcus grabbed the papers, tearing them to shreds.

His face was granite.

Serena, I told you. You're the Kingpin's wife. That's final.

I'll never divorce you.

I snatched up a vase and smashed it over his head.

Blood traced a path down his temple. I smiled.

Fine. Don't divorce me. I'll treat you to a fireworks show. Then we can go on being Port City's golden couple.

The living room TV flickered to life. Lily Ann.

Naked, dangling from a helicopter. Explosives strapped to her.

Blood streaked her pale thighs. Her screams filled the room.

Marcus! My stomach! It hurts! Save our baby! Please!

Serena! Let her go NOW! If anything happens to her or that child, I swear to God

Marcus lunged, his fingers digging into my throat, his eyes burning with a fire I hadn't seen in years.

I hadn't seen that fire since

Since I was eighteen, taken by my father's enemies. They wanted blood, not ransom.

Marcus, just a kid himself, fought his way in alone. Brought me out on his back, bleeding from a dozen wounds, but I was unharmed.

That fire in his eyes back then it burned just like this.

Now it was blazing again. But not for me.

The TV screen dissolved into static. One of Marcus's men rushed in.

Boss! We got her! We're heading to the hospital now!

The hand on my throat vanished. Marcus left without a single backward glance.

Jackson stared at the red marks on my neck, pure fury in his eyes.

Laid hands on the Missus over some trash? He's lost his damn mind.

If it weren't for you, Miss Vasiliev, he'd be at the bottom of the harbor.

I smiled toward the empty doorway.

Let him lose his mind.

But Serena Vasiliev doesn't take insults lying down.

My phone vibrated incessantly. News alerts flooded the screen.

Every headline featured Marcus carrying Lily Ann into the hospital emergency entrance.

Fifteen years of what people called a fairy tale romance? It had become a sick joke.

The envy I once inspired had twisted into pitying scorn directed at the Kingpin's Wife.

The world was whispering I was finished. People were placing bets on when the Kingpin would trade in his old model for the newer, younger version.

A new friend request popped up. Lily Ann.

Her profile picture, two hands clasped. One unmistakably Marcus's.

I accepted. A photo slammed into the chat instantly.

Marcus was on his knees, his forehead pressed tenderly against her slightly rounded belly.

Serena Vasiliev, hate to disappoint. My baby's just fine.

Thanks, actually. After your little stunt, Marcus was so scared you'd hurt me again, he hasn't left my side. Won't leave even when I tell him to.

You've no idea how much he wants this child. But then, why would you understand? You can't have any.

Serena Vasiliev, you're barren. A barren woman clinging to a title. I'll drag you off that throne myself.

I laughed out loud.

Sweetheart, the Kingpin's wife isn't a title you earn by getting knocked up.

Maybe to rub it in, Lily Ann bombarded me with photos every single morning.

Marcus C whose hands had only known how to handle cards and guns C was now washing her clothes, cooking her meals.

The look on his face as he gazed at her belly like he was worshipping at a second altar.

Jackson's expression darkened with every photo he saw.

Miss Vasiliev, do you need me to have a word with her?

Don't worry. I'll make sure any potential complications' are handled.

The front door crashed open. Marcus stormed in, his men flooding in behind him, pure rage rolling off him in waves.

They started trashing the place. Marcus glared at me, his face a thundercloud.

Serena. I let the last stunt slide. Now you're trying to poison her?

You can't have children, so no one else can? If we hadn't caught it in time the baby

My heart seized. I stared at him, disbelief choking me.

Years ago, Marcus's rival ambushed me while he was away on business.

By the time he fought his way back they'd already... cut me open. My tiny, barely-formed... it was discarded like trash.

Three months in the ICU. I survived.

But being a mother? That was stolen from me forever.

And now I was being accused of causing this?

Jackson stepped between us, snarling.

Marcus Ivanov! That's too far!

What are you? A dog barking at its master?

A sickening thud. Jackson gasped, clutching his thigh, and collapsed to the floor.

I raised an eyebrow, leaned back calmly on the sofa, and laughed.

I snatched the knife from Marcus's belt. Sank it deep into his shoulder. Twisted.

Poison? You insult me, Marcus.

Serena Vasiliev doesn't wear blame for things she hasn't done. You accuse me? Let me show you how I really operate.

For the first time, the ever-cool Marcus looked genuinely rattled.

He reached for his phone. It rang.

Boss! We have a situation! Men stormed the hospital! They took Miss Ann!

Marcus whirled around, staring at me, shock etched across his face.

I smiled sweetly.

I told you. I don't accept false accusations.

The doors burst open. Lily Ann, wailing hysterically, was dragged in and thrown at my feet.

Marcus whipped out his gun, pressing the cold barrel hard against my forehead.

Serena. Don't push me!

He held the gun, but his eyes were red-rimmed.

I gave him my best, most mocking smile.

Marcus Ivanov. Shoot me now. Or start picking out tiny coffins.

His hand trembled. His eyes were bloodshot, a vein throbbing violently at his temple.

Serena I warned you don't push me

Lily Ann shook violently. Seeing Marcus, hope flared in her eyes.

Marcus! Save me!

Serena Vasiliev, you crazy bitch! Without Marcus, you're nothing!

Let me go! Or Marcus will make you regret this!

I smirked. Ignoring the shocked gasps around us, I drove my foot hard into Lily Ann's belly.

She curled into a ball, screaming in agony, her cries echoing through the grand hall.

Serena Vasiliev! I hope you die screaming!

No wonder you can't have children! They cut your womb out!

A blood-soaked bitch like you? You don't deserve to be a mother!

My breath hitched. My nails dug deep into my palms.

I kicked her belly again, putting my full weight behind it. Then I pulled a knife, pressing the tip against her lower abdomen.

Oh, you think being pregnant makes you special? Let's see how well you carry a child with a shredded uterus.

Blood began trickling down Lily Ann's thighs. I pressed the blade deeper.

BANG!

A bullet whizzed past my cheek.

Blood dripped onto the marble floor.

I locked eyes with Marcus. Pure madness stared back at me.

Marcus Ivanov. You actually shot at me?

Marcus's eyes were blood-red. His face was a mask of strained control.

Serena Vasiliev. I warned you. She's just a kid. Leave her alone.

You gave me no choice.

My knife plunged into Marcus's chest.

Blood sprayed across my vision. The world turned red. Like the path we'd walked together all these years.

I stared coldly at him. Twisted the blade.

Marcus Ivanov. You left me no choice.

Just sign the damn divorce papers, and none of this had to happen.

Marcus's men drew their weapons. My crew mirrored them instantly.

Brothers who'd fought back-to-back for years now aiming guns at each other.

Marcus yanked the knife from his chest, blood soaking through his expensive shirt.

He scooped up the sobbing Lily Ann, his gaze lingering on the bullet graze on my cheek.

No divorce. I promised your father. You're the only Mrs. Ivanov.

But pray Lily Ann and the baby are alright. Or you'll pay.

That afternoon, Marcus sent a video.

Lily Ann, hysterical in a hospital bed.

Our baby's gone, Marcus! Kill that psychopath! Avenge our child!

Marcus's voice, cold, followed.

Serena. You will pay for this.

A bullet shattered the living room window. His declaration of war.

My empire began crumbling around me.

Docks accidentally caught fire. Nightclubs got raided and shut down. Even the cash cow casino got smashed up, repeatedly.

Seeing my men beaten and bleeding something inside me snapped.

I drove my knife through Marcus's face in our wedding photo.

Marcus Ivanov. Forget divorce. It's you or me now.

Port City became a warzone. People feared to go out during the day. Gunfire echoed through the nights.

Other underworld bosses tried to mediate.

Marcus, Serena fought her way up alongside you. Over some girl? It's not worth it.

Serena, stand down. You'll tear the whole city apart.

Marcus glared at me, his expression icy.

I'll stop. If Serena Vasiliev gets on her knees and begs Lily Ann's forgiveness.

I snorted in disgust.

Beg? Never. But I'll be happy to send her straight to hell!

A photograph slid across the table toward me. My father's grave my unborn child's memorial... both had been desecrated, the contents removed.

Marcus's eyes held nothing but frozen contempt.

Serena Vasiliev. Refuse to bow? Who knows where their ashes will end up.

The father who lifted him from nothing. The child who never had a chance.

Now reduced to bargaining chips.

The Marcus Ivanov, who loved me fiercely at eighteen was dead. Killed by his own hand.

I looked at him and laughed. A hollow, empty sound.

Marcus Ivanov. You win.