Chapter 10 - The Sacred Sanctuary
The wedding was held in the sprawling gardens of the Moretti estate under a sky painted in shades of gold and pink. There were no mob bosses or shady dealings—only close friends, legitimate business partners, and a family restored.
Matteo stood proudly beside his father as the ring bearer, dressed in a sharp suit, a huge grin plastered across his face.
When I walked down the aisle in a lace gown that delicately covered the faint white scars on my back, Dante looked at me as if I were the only person in the universe. The dark, dangerous kingpin was completely gone, replaced by a man filled with boundless love and devotion.
We exchanged our vows under an arch of white roses, promising to protect, cherish, and love each other through every storm life might bring.
"I used to think my life belonged to no one," I said, looking into Dante's deep eyes as I slipped the wedding band onto his finger. "Then I thought it belonged to you because of a debt. But now I know the truth—my heart belongs to you because you taught me how to live again."
"And my life belongs to you, Clara," Dante replied, his voice thick with emotion as he cupped my face. "Forever."
When the priest declared us husband and wife, Dante pulled me into a kiss that echoed with all the pain we had overcome, all the battles we had fought, and the beautiful, peaceful future we were embarking on together.
Later that evening, as the reception hummed with music and laughter, Dante and I walked out onto the peaceful terrace overlooking the estate. Matteo ran past us, playing tag with the gardener's children, his joyous laughter bouncing off the stone walls.
Dante wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin gently on my shoulder, his hands resting over mine.
"Look at them," Dante whispered into my ear. "No fear. No shadows."
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I leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart—the heart of the kingpin who had laid down his weapons for love. I traced the faint scars on my back through the silk of my dress, no longer seeing them as marks of pain, but as the precise moment my real life had begun.
I was no longer the invisible waitress hiding in the shadows. I was Clara Moretti—loved, cherished, and entirely home.
