Page 13 of Vicious Vines

"Alone, we are formidable. Together, we could be invincible. Kingsdale could be ours to share, not just to survive in. But such an alliance hinges on trust, Maria. Trust and loyalty—the kind that must go both ways."

"Trust doesn't come easily in our world, Sloane. Loyalty..." She trails off, leaving the word hanging between us like a forbidden fruit.

"True," I concede, feeling the weight of her words. "But imagine the empire we could build if we did trust, if we were loyal to this cause. Our enemies would think twice before crossing us."

"Empires are built on more than just ideals," Maria counters smoothly. "They're built on strength, on the assurance that one's back is covered when taking the throne."

"Let me cover your back," I offer, my voice tinged with the intensity of my conviction. "And you cover mine. Think of it, Maria—an alliance not born of necessity, but of shared vision. A new era for Kingsdale. Where Queens rule."

She's silent for a moment, and I'm left hanging on the precipice of her decision. And then—

"Meet me tonight, Sloane. Neutral ground. We'll discuss terms then."

"Tonight, it is." I hang up, the finality of the click resounding in my mind.

A partnership with Maria Romano, a woman whose very presence commands respect and exudes power, could be the turning point for the O'Neil legacy—a chance to emerge from the shadows cast by Finn's fall.

As the day bleeds into evening, I ready myself for the meeting with spiked heels and red lips. Tucking my gun into the waistband of my pants at my hips, I check my reflection in my mirror one more time before heading out to the meeting, the scales of fate ready to tip one way or the other.

The clink of my stilettos echoes as I make my way into a restaurant in downtown Kingsale, bypassing the host stand and kitchen doors, moving to a room in the back reserved just for this purpose. Meetings on neutral land. The dimly lit backroom does nothing to dim Maria Romano's power, the soft golden glow of lamplight cascading over her olive skin and casting an ethereal halo on the dark curls framing her face. Maria commands attention without demanding it, her presence a siren's call to those who know enough to heed the undertones of power in her every gesture.

Her eyes, a deep and fathomless brown, seem to bore into the souls of her adversaries, reading their intentions as easily as one might peruse the morning paper. There is a grace in her posture, a regal tilt to her chin that speaks volumes of her unspoken claim to the throne in this concrete kingdom.

I draw in a breath, the scent of wine mingling with the faint, heady trace of her perfume.

"Maria," I begin, my voice steady despite the drumbeat of my heart. "You know as well as I do that Kingsdale is changing. The days of lone wolves dominating these streets are over."

She lifts her chin, the glint in her dark eyes reflecting the low light. "Go on, Sloane O'Neil. Impress me."

I step closer, the space between us charged with the undercurrents of potential, both dangerous and enticing. "Together, we can create a fortress no one would dare challenge. Our combined strength would ensure protection for both the O'Neil and the Romano families. We could control the markets, set the prices, eliminate competition. Mutual growth, mutual protection—it's more than beneficial, Maria. It's revolutionary."

"Ah, but every alliance has its price." Maria's voice is smooth, like velvet wrapped around steel. "What exactly are you willing to offer, Sloane?"

I brace myself, knowing this is where the true test of our negotiation lies—in the delicate balance of give and take. "Territory is power. We share information, resources, but also respect boundaries. Your operations in the North End remain untouched. In return, the East Side stays under O'Neil control."

A muscle flickers in her jaw, a sign of resistance or perhaps contemplation. "And what of the docks? Prime land, ripe for the taking now that you're shoving Victor out."

The docks—a crucial point, a potential dealbreaker. Yet, I've come prepared to barter. "Joint control," I propose, watching her reaction closely. "We split the profits, run it together. It's neutral ground, symbolizing our alliance."

"Neutral ground doesn't stay neutral for long," she counters, stepping forward, her presence all-consuming. "It'll breed conflict within our ranks if not managed carefully."

"Then we manage it carefully," I assert, refusing to back down. My pulse quickens at the dance of negotiation, the ebb and flow of power between us. "We set an example, show them what unity looks like. This alliance isn't just for show, Maria. It's the future."

"Or it could be a beautifully wrapped gift of betrayal," Maria retorts, but there's a spark of admiration in her gaze. She knows as well as I that in this game, trust is a weapon as sharp as any knife.

"Betrayal isn't in my nature," I say, letting the truth of my words hang in the air. "Not where trust is earned."

"You'll have to earn mine."

"I understand."

"You'll marry one of the Romano's of my choosing. We'll announce the engagement tomorrow night."

I nod slowly, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the moment. I knew this was a play Maria might make and had walled off my heart in preparation for it. Queens have no room for hearts. All that matters is that I secure the O'Neil legacy.

"Very well," Maria concedes, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with the weight of decision. "We strike a balance. We forge a new path. But make no mistake, Sloane—should this alliance fracture, it will be more than business that suffers."

"Then let us ensure it remains unbroken," I reply, my determination mirrored in her steely resolve.

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