Chapter 5 - The Wedding of the CenturyThe Chicago Grand Ballroom had been transformed into a gothic-romantic masterpiece.
Four thousand red roses cascaded down marble staircases. Candlelight flickered from hundreds of antique iron chandeliers. Four hundred guests—a dangerous mix of Chicago's elite politicians, high-profile developers, and the most feared capos in the underworld—sat in absolute silence as the string quartet played a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Vivaldi.
Standing at the altar in a tailored black tuxedo, Dominic Castelli looked like a king waiting to conquer an empire.
Beside him stood Dante as best man, looking suspiciously smug. In the front row, Nonna Rosa sat dabbing a lace handkerchief against her dry eyes, looking utterly triumphant.
Then the heavy oak doors at the back of the ballroom swung open.
The murmurs died instantly.
All eyes turned toward the entrance.
I walked down the grand marble aisle wearing the custom Bellarosa Couture gown—layers of ivory silk, intricate lace, and a ten-foot cathedral veil that trailed behind me like sea foam. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but as I raised my eyes and saw Dominic waiting for me at the end of the aisle, every trace of fear evaporated.
He wasn't just a mafia boss. He was the man who had pulled me out of the shadows and made me his world.
When I reached the altar, Dominic stepped forward, taking my trembling hands in his large, warm palms. His amber eyes were shining with an emotion he rarely showed anyone else.
"You look breathtaking," he murmured, his voice husky.
"You clean up alright yourself," I whispered back, earning a quiet, dark chuckle from him.
The ceremony proceeded in a blur of Latin vows, heavy gold rings, and absolute silence from an audience that knew better than to make a sound.
When the priest finally pronounced us husband and wife, Dominic didn't hesitate. He pulled me against his chest, crushing his lips to mine in a deep, possessive kiss that made the entire ballroom erupt into thunderous applause.
Nonna Rosa stood up and cheered, leading the room in an ovation fit for royalty.
The reception was held in the estate's sprawling glass pavilion overlooking Lake Michigan.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep purple and gold, Dominic led me onto the dance floor for our first dance. A slow, romantic melody filled the air as he wrapped his arms securely around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
"Well, Mrs. Castelli," Dominic murmured, resting his chin against my hair. "How does it feel to be trapped for life?"
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking up into his amber eyes.
"Not trapped at all," I whispered. "Just right."
Across the room, Salvatore Marino stood near the exit, his face twisted in quiet fury, whispering something to an enforcer before turning and storming out into the night.
May you like
Dominic caught sight of him, his lips curving into a cold, dangerous smirk. He tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me closer still, showing every single person in the room that I was his, and he was mine.
And for the first time in my life, I knew I was exactly where I belonged.
