Page 6 of The Queen
My heart hammers against my ribs as we yell at each other, but it’s just making things worse.
But there’s no time for self-pity; I need answers, and I need them now. The question I’m dreading coils in my throat like a viper, ready to strike. “Was Mum... was she part of the family business? Or just married to it?”
Dad’s mouth tightens, his jaw clenching as if the words are too bitter to let out. He looks away, a clear sign that he’s wrestling with the truth and the protective lies he’s spun for so long.
The silence is thick and suffocating. Dad’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes clouded with something dark and heavy. He looks away, his gaze landing somewhere over my shoulder.
“Eliza,” he starts, voice rough like gravel, “Diane was more than just my wife.”
I freeze, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What do you mean?” The question comes out sharper than I intend, but right now, I can’t bring myself to care about niceties.
He sighs, a sound that seems to carry the weight of a thousand unspoken regrets. “Diane wasn’t on the sidelines, love. She was deep in it—same as me.”
“Fuck.” My mother was actual mafia? It reshapes every memory and casts long shadows over every truth I thought I knew.
A revelation shatters the stillness of the room. It clicks, the missing piece slotting into place with a brutal finality. “Lila is gunning for all the mafia families. She thinks one of them,us, is responsible for what happened to Mum.”
My dad’s eyes darken. “Fuck this. It isn’t worth it. Come home. It’s safer.”
“I’m not running away,” I snap, the steel in my tone matching his. “Castle University is my turf now. I protect what’s mine. I won’t bail on the students and leave them to be attacked again, only this time worse.”
“Stubborn as your mother,” he murmurs, but there’s a glint of pride in his eyes. He adjusts the cuffs of his tailored suit, a silent symbol of the life we lead.
He reaches out, pulling me to him for a tight hug and kisses the top of my head before he lets me go and turns toward the door. “Your mother would be proud, Lizzie. Just like I am.” With those parting words, he strides out, leaving me alone with the weight of my legacy and the fight ahead.
5
RAPHAEL
The shoutsfrom inside the townhouse slice through the evening air, sharp enough to set my nerves on edge. Tarquin, James, Oliver, and I exchange a look that doesn’t need words—our eyes say it all. Eliza’s in there, holding her ground like she always does. We’re outside, waiting patiently for them to sort their family shit out.
Seconds tick by - heavy and loaded. Then the door bursts open.
Damon steps out, all power and cold intent.
Before he can say anything, I step up, not flinching under his gaze. “Eliza’s got us,” I tell him straight. “She’s our Queen, and we’re her Kings. Nothing and no one gets past us.”
His eyes narrow, searching mine for any hint of doubt. But he won’t find it—not in me, not in any of us. We’re bound to her by blood, oath; we’ll bleed for her, fight for her, and die for her if that’s what it takes.
Tarquin steps up, his gaze blazing as he locks eyes with Damon. “Eliza’s under our protection,” his voice rumbles, low and full of steel. “Nothing’s going to touch her.” James and Oliver nod, their faces set in stone, all business.
“Listen,” Damon hisses, the edge in his voice sharp enough to draw blood. “If you screw this up, if anything happens to her...” He leaves the threat hanging, but we all know the score. Despite him being a Hughes and our blood is separated by family loyalty, his word is law, and his wrath is legendary.
“Understood,” I cut in, my tone leaving no room for argument. We all stand firm, shoulders squared, ready to lay down our lives for Eliza without a second thought. “She’s everything to us.”
Damon grunts, a sound almost like approval, but not quite. He scans each of us, his stare trying to peel back our skin to see any betrayal lurking. But we’re solid—forged in love and danger, a deal only the likes of us could ever understand.
My muscles tense, an instinctive reaction to the gravity in Damon’s warning glare. I keep my eyes fixed on his, letting him see that I’m not just spouting words; I mean every one of them. “Eliza’s safety is our top priority. Ouronlypriority.”
His cold silence has got me rambling all of a sudden, but the stakes are higher than they were before. First, she was an obsession, a thing I had to have no matter the consequences, no matter the cost. Now, she is the air I breathe. Without her, I’m lost. She feeds every part of me, the darkness, the sliver of light, the sexual desires, which she hasn’t even discovered are far more deviant than she thinks. We’ve gone easy on her. All of us. How the fuck James and Oliver have not pinned her down and fucked her by now is a testament to their strong will.
Damon holds Tarquin’s gaze for a moment longer than I know he’s comfortable with. He’s usually the rambler and is about to go into meltdown if Damon doesn’t speak soon. But he’s still searching, probing for any hint of falter. We work on his timeline, no one else’s.
But there is absolutely nothing to find.
“We’ll bleed for her if that’s what it takes.” James’s voice doesn’t waver; it’s a low rumble of thunder promising a storm.
“Fucking right, we will,” Oliver adds, moving up beside James. The tension in his stance, coiled and ready to spring into action, speaks volumes. “Eliza is our Queen, sealed with a blood oath.”
