𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Chicago. The woman everyone...
"If you have the woman you love, what more do you need? Well, besides an alibi for the time of her husband's murder."
- Dark Jar Tin zoo
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You look fucking perfect." He said those words when I was covered in the blood of Luigi's man, right after I kissed him with it still on my face, my blood-soaked fingers tangled in his soft, dark blond hair. He wasn't disgusted or repulsed by how savage I'd been.
Hector Pierce, what the hell were you doing to me? I wanted to say I was in love with him, that I knew exactly what that felt like, but the truth was, I wasn't sure I even knew what love really was. Love had never come easy for me. It wasn't the kind of thing I grasped the way other people did—effortless, like breathing. There were people in my life whose presence was vital to keeping me grounded, steady, and a part of me knew I loved them—though my way of feeling love might be different from what most people would consider "normal."
Trusting people, let alone loving them, had never been my strong suit. But Hector? He was different. He'd managed to break through the walls I'd built so carefully over the years, claiming a part of my heart I didn't even know I had left to give. Did I love him? Hell, I didn't know. What I did know was I would die for him, without a second thought. Maybe that was love, or maybe it was something else, something deeper, or more fucked up. It didn't matter, though. What mattered was that I trusted him enough to let him see the rawest parts of me, the sides no one else got to witness. With Hector, I could be real, no walls, no pretending. And I knew, no matter what, he'd still be there, and that he wouldn't judge me or love me less.
That day in Goat's basement, when Hector handed me the dagger and let me take my own revenge on the man who'd shot me—that was the moment I knew. This was a man who understood me, who didn't just protect me, but respected me enough to give me the reins when it counted. It drove me crazy for him in ways I couldn't fucking explain. Being with Hector felt right. Even with everything else—the danger, his uncle, all the shit standing in our way—I knew deep down, this was where I wanted to be.
I wrapped a towel around my wet hair and stepped out of the shower, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. The last few days had been intense, but tonight was different. Tonight was about something good. Hector and I had decided to throw Goat and Layla a wedding, and despite the chaos in our lives, I was excited. Was it reckless to throw a wedding when Luigi Pagano was still out there? Maybe. Probably. But I had a plan. One that I'd stayed up all night fine-tuning to make sure nothing went wrong. No one I cared about would get hurt tonight. I would make sure of it.
A soft knock on my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts. It had to be Layla.
"Come in," I called, sitting on the edge of the bed, towel-drying my hair.
Layla walked in, and damn, she looked beautiful. She had that bride-to-be glow, a smile so wide it was impossible not to catch some of her joy. Before I could say anything, she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.
