Chapter 5 - The Wedding on the Lake
Six months later, the shores of Lake Michigan wore a vibrant, emerald-green crown as summer replaced the brutal chill of the Chicago winter.
The private gardens behind the Callahan estate were transformed into an oasis of white roses, ivy-draped arches, and string lights that glowed softly as the sun began to dip below the western horizon, painting the sky in shades of bruised violet and burning gold.
There were no politicians, no federal prosecutors, and no underworld capos in attendance. The guest list was remarkably small, consisting of Marcus Vance in a sharply tailored tuxedo, Mrs. Gable beaming proudly from the front row, and a handful of trusted associates who had helped secure their peace.
Helena stood before the full-length mirror in her suite, smoothing down the fabric of her fitted, off-the-shoulder white silk wedding gown. The lace collar rose high along her neck—not to make a fashion statement, but because she liked the way the delicate embroidery looked against her skin. There were no bruises left to hide. Just clean, unbroken porcelain.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Helena called out.
The door opened, and Gabriel stepped inside. He wore a classic black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt, his dark hair neatly combed back, his sharp features softened by an expression of undisguised awe.
He stopped a few feet away, his hands sliding into his pockets as he took her in from head to toe.
"You look..." Gabriel paused, searching for a word that could possibly capture the reality before him, before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "There aren't enough words in the English language, Helena."
Helena smiled, walking over to him and resting her hands on the lapels of his jacket. "You clean up nicely for a syndicate boss, Mr. Callahan."
"Only for the most dangerous woman in Illinois," Gabriel replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. He looked down into her eyes, his expression turning serious. "You know, when I found you working three jobs behind the counter of that diner downtown, trying to pay off Trent’s hidden debts, I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I just wanted to keep you from breaking."
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"You didn't break me, Gabriel," Helena whispered, pressing her forehead against his chest. "You put me back together."
"Together, then," Gabriel murmured, leaning down to press a tender, lingering kiss to her lips. "Forever."
