The morning after Isabelle Crowe's fall was unnervingly quiet.
Hazel Graze stood on the balcony of the Graze penthouse, her coffee untouched, watching the city stretch and wake beneath her. Sunlight bounced off glass towers and traffic buzzed far below. But in Hazel's mind — there was only silence.
A storm had passed.
And she was still standing.
Michael appeared beside her, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, flawless as always. But his eyes — they carried the shadows of last night.
"Crowe's territories are crumbling already," he murmured. "Roman's gone underground. The council's reaching out."
Hazel didn't turn. "Good."
He set his coffee beside hers, gaze lingering on the small, bruised marks on her wrist from last night's fight. "You should rest."
Hazel smirked. "You say that like you don't enjoy watching me fight."
Michael chuckled softly, tracing his thumb over her knuckles. "I prefer you in my bed, not bleeding on my docks."
A warm flush crept up Hazel's neck, though she wouldn't admit it.
"What's next?" she asked.
Michael's gaze sharpened. "We take the throne."
**
At Graze Tower
The boardroom filled with silent, powerful men. CEOs, underworld brokers, and heads of old families who pretended their hands were clean. Hazel sat at the head of the long glass table, her presence undeniable.
Michael stood behind her chair, one hand resting casually on her shoulder. A silent, territorial claim.
Connor entered last, dropping a file onto the table. "Isabelle's accounts are frozen. Her men have scattered. There's a power vacuum."
The eldest councilman cleared his throat. "And you propose… what, exactly?"
Hazel leaned forward, her voice soft but cutting. "We fill it."
Murmurs rippled.
"She was dangerous," another man ventured. "We lost good men last night."
"And you'd lose more if she lived," Hazel snapped. "We didn't start this war. But we ended it. Efficiently."
Michael's voice followed, cool and final. "From this day forward, all Crowe territories fall under Graze control. Anyone who objects… is free to leave the table."
No one moved.
Hazel smirked.
"Then it's settled."
**
Later — In Michael's Office
Michael shut the door, locking it. Hazel lounged in his chair, feet on his desk, twirling a paperweight between her fingers.
"I like the view from here," she teased.
Michael stalked toward her, predatory. "Get out of my chair, Hazel."
"Or what?"
He yanked her up, backing her against the desk. Hazel's breath hitched, the air crackling between them.
"You keep pushing me," Michael growled.
Hazel grinned, sliding her arms around his neck. "That's because you like it."
He kissed her, rough and consuming, lifting her onto the desk. Papers scattered. The city faded away.
For a while, there was nothing but them.
**
Elsewhere — In the Shadows
A man in a dark coat stood at a high window, watching the Graze tower from afar. His face remained hidden, but his voice was clear.
"Isabelle was a fool," he murmured.
Another figure shifted behind him. "What now, boss?"
The man's grin was sharp and cold. "Now… we test the new queen."
He lit a cigarette, watching the smoke curl.
"Let's see what Hazel Graze is really made of."
**
Back at the Penthouse — Nightfall
Hazel sat by the fire, legs tucked beneath her, reading one of Benjamin Crane's old journals. The words hinted at secrets buried deep within the city's foundation. Deals. Betrayals. And names Hazel had never seen before.
Michael entered, a bottle of wine in hand. "Connor's on security detail. You're safe tonight."
Hazel glanced up, one brow raised. "Since when do I need babysitting?"
Michael sighed, sitting beside her. "Since you became the most dangerous person in this city."
Hazel's lips curved. "Took them long enough to notice."
They drank in silence for a while, the weight of their empire hanging heavy in the air.
Hazel leaned her head on his shoulder. "You're not getting rid of me now, you know."
Michael smirked, brushing his thumb along her jaw. "Wouldn't dare."
Outside, lightning forked across the sky, promising another storm.
But for now — the queen sat on her throne.
And no one would dare challenge her...