Page 85 of Fire and Silk
“This,” I say, tilting my head toward Lira, “is Lira Falco. The third heir named in the original bond. And as of this morning, she is also my wife.”
The words echo.
Maksim jolts upright, the chair legs scraping the floor.
Mina’s smile vanishes. “What did you just say?”
“You heard him,” Matteo replies flatly from his place behind me, arms crossed, eyes never leaving them.
The lawyers lean in, skimming the text. The older one nods slowly, his thumb brushing the embossed seal near the bottom of the bond.
“It’s real,” he murmurs. “And binding.”
“You can’t be serious,” Maksim barks. “This—this isn’t possible. She’s a—she’s an outsider. A civilian. You can’t just drag some woman into this and hand her everything!”
Mina’s jaw tightens. “This isn’t fair. She has no history here.”
Matteo steps forward and produces the second document—the marriage certificate, still warm from being filed. He lays it on the table like the final card in a hand they didn’t know they were losing.
“This morning,” he says. “Official. Witnessed. Stamped.”
The younger lawyer lifts it, scans the lines, and nods. “It’s all here. Registered through the proper municipal office. No legal loopholes.”
The older one flips to the closing clause of the original bond, tapping twice.
“Clause 3-C states clearly,” he says, “that full consolidation of assets and control passes to the bloodline of the female heir—Chiara’s descendants—if joined by marriage to a Dante heir. That bond now rests with Lira Falco-Dante. And by extension—” he glances at me—“you.”
Maksim slaps a palm against the table, pushing up from his chair so quickly the wood rocks back on one leg.
“This is madness!” he snarls. “You expect us to hand over everything—just like that? It makes no sense!”
Mina shoots to her feet beside him, face flushed with something darker than shock. “This is a scam. A pretty scam in lace.”
But the older lawyer lifts a hand with patient finality. “You’ve both profited from the estate for years under provisional clauses. This bond supersedes them. Per the inheritance conditions, all holdings—liquid and physical—must be transferred back to the rightful heir. Miss Falco-Dante.”
Mina’s eyes swing toward Lira like knives drawn for war.
“Who even are you?” she spits, stepping forward. “How much did he pay you to lie? To sign some forged paper and play dress-up in our house?”
Lira opens her mouth, startled, but the words don’t make it past her lips.
I step in front of her, one hand rising—not touching Mina, not yet, but enough to shift the weight of the room.
“You’ll back up,” I say calmly, “and remember who you’re speaking to.”
But then—light pressure on my back. A hand.
Lira’s.
I glance over my shoulder. Her eyes burn.
“Let her,” she says quietly.
I step aside.
Mina surges forward before I can second-guess myself. Her hand flies. The slap lands across Lira’s face with a sound that silences the room. Lira stumbles half a step back, the imprint already blooming across her cheek.
“You cheap little thief,” Mina hisses.
