Katherine’s POV

I sighed as I looked at Lionel sleeping peacefully beside me. It was just past seven, and there wasn’t a hint of him waking anytime soon. I didn’t want to wake up either—not yet.

For the first time in years, I couldn’t sleep.

My eyes lingered on the scars scattered across his body, each one a silent scream of pain inflicted by his father. But two stood out the most. One, from the man who gave him life and nearly ended it. The other—from the heart transplant that did save his life.

People think Lionel is weak. Maybe it’s the kindness in his eyes or the calmness in his voice. But I know better. Lionel doesn’t need guns or fists to win. His empathy is the deadliest weapon I’ve ever seen.

He is my King.

My future husband.

The man who will rule by my side.

He’s going to be the next Godfather of the Spanish Mafia. And it’s my job to prepare him.

I can protect him only as long as I’m alive. After that, it’s on him to protect himself—and our family. I taught him how to be a CEO. Now, I’ll teach him how to be a Capo.

I let my eyes roam across his face. God really took His time with this one—thick brows, a sharp nose, those pink lips that could tempt a saint. I’d never been proud to call anyone mine before. But this man... he has me wrapped around his little finger. And he has no idea.

“It’s rude to stare, Princess,” Lionel said, his voice low and raspy with sleep.

I laughed softly, cupping his cheek as I turned toward him, propping myself up on my arm.

“Who’s teaching you to be this cheesy?” I teased, raising a brow.

He swatted my hand away lazily. “Ryder. He’s been teaching me the ‘Ways of the Spanish Mafia.’ And it’s not cheesy—you are my princess.” He rolled his eyes.

In a flash, I straddled him, pinning both his hands above his head with one hand and gripping his throat with the other, just enough pressure to make a point.

“What did I tell you about rolling your eyes, gorgeous?” I whispered near his ear.

“You said I look hot when I do it…” he said, trying to suppress his grin and failing.

I smirked when I felt his arousal pressing against my thigh. I tightened my grip on his throat.

“What was that, baby boy?” I asked, grinding my hips against him.

He sucked in a harsh breath, clearly trying to suppress a moan.

“Katherine, please…” he groaned, eyes shut tight.

“Please what?” I asked, trailing kisses along his jawline, intentionally avoiding his lips. His heart was racing beneath my hand. His cheeks were flushed.

“Wear something comfortable,” I said suddenly, climbing off him and walking toward the bathroom.

“What?” he asked, completely thrown off.

I stopped and turned slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. Seriously?

“Did I stutter?” I asked sharply, giving him a warning glare.

Since the beginning of our relationship, I made the rules clear:

1. Don’t make me repeat myself.

2. Use your words.

3. When I tell you something, fucking obey it.

4. Don’t raise your voice against me.

Simple. Clear. Non-negotiable.

Lionel gulped, eyes wide, and made the mistake of shaking his head.

“Use your words, Lionel.”

“No—sorry! I’ll pick out my clothes,” he said quickly, rushing into the closet.

I rolled my eyes and stepped into the bathroom.

***

Third Person POV

Lionel had his arm wrapped around Katherine’s waist as they entered the kitchen. Most of the boys were already seated, waiting for their Capo and the would be Godfather.

Ryder had taken it upon himself to educate Lionel in Mafia protocol, and Lionel had listened intently, committing every rule to memory:

Always sit or walk to Capo's right.

Never miss a Mafia meeting.

No one is allowed to disrespect the Capo or Lionel himself.

Disagreements with the Capo must be handled privately.

Katherine took her usual place at the head of the table. Lionel’s eyes immediately locked on Kevin, who had taken the seat to her right. An obvious sign of disrespect to the Godfather.

Katherine watched Lionel carefully from the corner of her eye. She wanted to see what he’d do—wanted the others to see it too.

“Get up, Kevin,” Lionel said evenly.

Kevin looked up lazily, barely interested. “There’s an empty seat next to me. Stop being childish and sit.”

Before anyone could blink, Lionel grabbed Kevin by the neck and yanked him off the chair. He took the now-empty seat beside Katherine, then grabbed Kevin by the hair and pointed a fork at his throat, just hard enough to draw blood.

“Just because I tolerate your bullshit doesn’t mean I’ll let you disrespect me or the Capo,” he said, voice low and steady. “Know your place before you fuck with me.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. He scrambled away like a cat whose tail had caught fire.

The rest of the table nodded in silent approval. When Katherine picked up her fork, they followed.

Katherine smirked and turned to Lionel. He gave her a soft smile and kissed her cheek.

A true king indeed, she thought, then dug into her breakfast.

***

Later that day, Lionel stood in stunned silence at the edge of the Mafia training room.

The space was massive. In the center, two enormous men sparred with brutal efficiency. Each move calculated, fast, and vicious.

On the other side, men practiced their shooting. Every bullet hit the bullseye. No misses.

“Kate, why are we here?” Lionel asked, eyes still wide.

“Because starting today, you begin training,” Katherine replied. She gave a brief command, and everyone instantly stopped and left the room. They were smart enough not to question her.

Once the last person left, she locked the door and led him to the mat.

“Listen carefully,” she said, turning to him. “The training I’m about to give you is advanced. I won’t hold back and I don’t want you to either.”

Lionel nodded. He wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice, not when she looked like that in yoga pants and a tank top.

“Use your words, Lionel.”

“Sure,” he said quickly.

Satisfied, she continued. “I want you to punch me. As hard as you can.”

He blinked. “What? No. I’m not punching you. That’s wrong.”

Katherine raised a brow. She didn’t expect him to be this assertive. Impressive.

Too bad it wouldn’t help.

Without warning, she landed a brutal punch to his nose.

“OW—what the fuck?!” he shouted, stumbling back and clutching his face.

“You think others will go easy on you because you’re polite?” she asked, voice cold. “Even a silver-level assassin can take you down in seconds. Now punch me. Seriously.”

Lionel groaned, straightened up, and threw a weak punch.

Katherine caught his wrist mid-air and twisted it hard. He winced.

“That’s not a punch. That’s a compliment wrapped in cotton,” she taunted. “You’re weak, Lionel.”

“This isn’t training—it’s insulting,” he snapped.

Katherine’s expression hardened. “This isn’t even real Capo training. This is a warm-up. And right now? You’re failing. If you aren’t strong enough, you’ll get yourself and others killed.”

“I can fight!” he snapped.

“Prove it. Block my attacks,” she said, now holding a scalpel in her right hand. Her signature weapon.

Lionel hesitated but nodded. “Sure.”

In a blink, Katherine was behind him. She moved like smoke. Silent, quick, and lethal. She circled back around, wiping blood off her blade.

Lionel blinked. Confused. Then the pain hit. He looked down. Small, shallow cuts lined his torso and arms.

He dropped to his knees, breathing hard.

Katherine walked to him slowly, crouched down, and cupped his face in her hand.

“Do you understand now?” she asked gently. “This is real. This is the world you’re about to lead. I need you strong for it.”

Lionel met her eyes, chest heaving. He nodded, this time with understanding.

He’d been foolish to think kindness alone could protect a kingdom.

Now, he’d train.

Now, he’d rise.

And he would make his Queen proud.