MAFIA QUEEN

CHAPTER 18- LOSE YOU TO LOVE ME

The years after Luke’s death had been cruel and merciless. Gwen’s days were dark, heavy with grief that refused to loosen its grip. Every morning felt like wading through a fog she couldn’t escape. She drank — hard, often, every day. The tequila that once felt like a sharp thrill now dulled the ache, but never erased it.

Even though she managed the missions — ruthless, efficient, deadly — it wasn’t her. Her movements were precise, her orders sharp, but behind her eyes burned a madness no one dared approach. Only Matteo, ever loyal, remained a faint tether to the world, quietly watching over her and her son, who had grown resilient under the care of staff.

She didn’t attend Luke’s funeral. She couldn’t. She knew if she had walked among those mourners, she might have stepped into his grave after him. Elizabeth had returned to New York soon after, leaving Gwen alone in the mansion that had once felt like home.

Time passed. Days bled into years. Five long years.

Then, one night, as she stared at the ceiling after finishing another report, another mission plan, another late-night bottle, she remembered Luke’s words. The words that had always echoed, even in the moments she didn’t want to hear them:

“Be happy.”

It wasn’t easy. It still wasn’t easy. Happiness didn’t come in bursts, and her grief didn’t vanish. But slowly, tentatively, she started taking care of herself. She cleaned up her life, started eating properly again, shaving off the layers of grime, exhaustion, and rage that had built up over the years. She smiled — though rarely — for her son, even when her heart felt hollow.

She became colder, harder, untouchable. Her presence alone could silence a room. People whispered about her now, the new Gwen who walked into their offices with icy eyes, sharper than steel, more dangerous than most men she’d faced in missions. Few dared approach. None dared challenge.

The only person she trusted, truly, was Matteo. The only one who had been there through her worst days and still remained loyal, quietly, always.

And yet… she wanted more.

She wanted power. She wanted knowledge. She wanted to become someone even Luke’s enemies would fear.

So Gwen made a decision. New York.

She left her hometown without a word, taking her son with her. She rented a small, modest house — simple enough to hide in, sturdy enough to survive in. The house smelled faintly of paint and wood polish, the kind of new beginning that demanded work and patience. She didn’t rest. She barely slept. She was obsessed with learning, training, mastering. She wanted to meet Luke’s brother immediately, the man who had been a shadow in Luke’s empire, more powerful than Luke ever was, and she wanted to learn.

Weeks of preparation culminated in her standing in an unfinished, empty building in the outskirts of New York. Guns leaned against walls, cases of ammo stacked neatly in corners, surveillance screens casting faint glows across the room. Her hands tightened around the weapon she held. Her chest heaved slightly, a mixture of adrenaline and anticipation.

She looked possessed. Anyone who had crossed her path before would have felt fear. Now, she carried it with her naturally. The air around her felt electric.

A sound of an engine broke the silence. A car approached, sleek and black. Tires hummed against concrete as it stopped outside. Several men in suits stepped out, surveying the building, then opening the doors as if they had come expecting battle.

Then he stepped out.

Gwen froze, instinctively lowering her weapon slightly, though her pulse hammered in her ears. He had long hair tied back, his presence unreal — impossibly sharp, impossibly cold, impossibly intimidating. His eyes scanned her, piercing, calculating. His aura radiated authority and danger, something Gwen hadn’t seen in anyone, not even Luke.

She swallowed hard, silently chastising herself for the flutter in her chest. She refused to show weakness. She waited, perfectly still, letting him approach, letting the men around him hang back.

He walked toward her slowly, deliberately, each step measured, every movement sharp. When he stopped a few feet away, he didn’t smile. He didn’t relax. He exuded a chilling energy, the kind that could break a person before they even spoke.

Lewis: “Nice to meet you.” His voice was low, calm, and somehow more terrifying than the sound of a gunshot.

Gwen’s lips parted slightly. She studied him, her mind racing. Every instinct screamed caution, every fiber of her body recognized power.

Gwen: “What’s your name?” Her voice was steady, controlled, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity — and fear.

Lewis: “Lewis.” He didn’t offer more. Not yet. His gaze lingered on her, measuring, reading.

The first weeks were tense. Every word exchanged, every movement observed. Gwen didn’t trust easily, not after what she had lost. She didn’t falter, but she didn’t yield either. Lewis, cold and meticulous, tested her in subtle ways — probing her limits, assessing her capacity.

But slowly… the tension shifted. He began to trust her. At first, in small increments. A nod here. A minor permission there. And then more.

Gwen adapted quickly. She learned from him — ruthlessness, strategy, power, intelligence that even Luke had never taught her. She became sharper, faster, deadlier. She mastered combat, business, negotiation, and strategy under his guidance.

Every lesson was grueling, but she thrived. Her son became a quiet observer, growing up in the midst of a mother who had become untouchable. She was more dangerous than ever, but more disciplined. No one could bend her, no one could scare her — except Lewis, whose trust was hard-won, but once given, fiercely loyal.

And through it all, Gwen thought of Luke, of his words, of the life she had promised herself she would live. But now, she carried that strength, that danger, and that resolve with her every day — a mother, a warrior, and a woman who would never be vulnerable again unless she chose to be.

Lewis had always been sharp, controlled, untouchable — the kind of man who commanded respect without raising his voice. But as he spent more time with Gwen, as he trained her, guided her, pushed her limits… he realized something he didn’t expect.

He started caring.

Not casual care. Not brotherly respect. But something deeper, something dangerous. Every time she smiled at a victory, every time her eyes flared with determination, every time she laughed at her own small mistakes, his chest tightened in ways he didn’t allow himself to acknowledge. He knew she was Luke’s ex-wife. He knew she had given her heart and soul to his brother. And yet… he couldn’t help it.

One afternoon, they were at the shooting range inside the unfinished New York compound. The smell of gunpowder hung thickly in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of the target wall. Gwen was focused, her stance perfect, her breathing controlled.

Lewis stepped behind her, hands guiding hers. His grip lingered a fraction longer than necessary, brushing against her fingers, pressing slightly against her back.

Gwen stiffened, glancing over her shoulder.

Gwen: “Why are you so close?” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge, a warning.

He didn’t immediately respond. For a second, his chest rose and fell faster than usual, eyes locking with hers in the mirror of her reflection. He realized the line they were dangerously close to crossing, but something about the intensity in her gaze — that fiery mix of frustration and vulnerability — made him falter.

Lewis: “I… I’m just making sure you’re steady.” His voice was calm, too calm, hiding the tension coiling inside him.

Gwen narrowed her eyes, sensing the unspoken truth. Something had changed. Something between them. Something forbidden.

And then she did something that shocked them both.

She grabbed his face with both hands. Fierce. Urgent. Hungry. And kissed him.

It wasn’t the slow, tender, teasing kiss she had shared with Luke. It wasn’t full of love and trust. It was rushed, desperate, messy. A kiss of frustration, of need, of emotions she didn’t allow herself to feel.

Lewis froze at first, then let himself return it, letting her lips guide the passion, letting her take the first move. His hands hovered at her waist, unsure, but caught in the pull of the moment.

Time slowed.

They were about to go further — to give in fully to the storm of desire, to the dangerous attraction that had been simmering under the surface for weeks — when Lewis pulled back.

His chest rose and fell rapidly. His eyes, sharp and commanding in every other moment, now glimmered with regret.

Lewis: “I… I can’t.”

He stepped back, the weight of his words pressing down like a physical blow. The sound of his boots on the concrete floor seemed to echo in the empty room, leaving Gwen standing there, trembling.

She blinked, stunned, heart hammering in her chest, fingers brushing her lips as if she could erase what had just happened.

She slammed the gun into the stand, pacing the room. Her heart raced, not just from desire but from shame.

Gwen: “…How dare I even feel this? How dare I… love someone else? Him? Luke’s brother?”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. She felt the walls of the compound pressing in on her, her chest aching, mind spinning.

And yet… despite the guilt, despite the anger, despite the ache of betrayal she felt toward her own heart, she knew one thing: she couldn’t stop herself.

She had to move on.

Because the world didn’t wait. The people she protected didn’t wait. Her son didn’t wait. And neither could she.

She took a shaky breath, staring at the empty space where Lewis had just been. Every part of her screamed that she wanted to chase him down, to demand his attention, to punish herself for letting herself fall.

But she didn’t.

She straightened her shoulders, wiped the sweat from her brow, and walked toward the exit of the compound. Every step was measured, every breath steady, masking the storm inside her.

Her mind was clear. She would train harder. She would become stronger. She would become dangerous, smarter, and untouchable — for her son, for herself. And maybe… someday, when the world made sense again, she would allow herself to feel what she wanted without shame.

But not today.

Not now.

Today, she was Gwen.

Fierce. Cold. Ruthless. Unbreakable.

And the memory of Lewis — and the kiss she couldn’t take back — would haunt her, fuel her, and push her forward into the dangerous, unforgiving world she now ruled.