Chapter 6 - The Crown We ShareThree years later, the winter wind off Lake Michigan was just as cold, but inside the grand ballroom of the Moretti estate, the air was warm, fragrant with white roses, and filled with the gentle laughter of a toddler.
It was a wedding unlike any Chicago had ever seen.
There were no snobs from L’Étoile. No corrupt senators or fake heiresses. The guests were loyal allies, honest working people, and family.
Mabel stood in front of the massive gold-rimmed mirror in the bridal suite, adjusting the neckline of her breathtaking, custom-designed ivory lace gown. She looked radiant, mature, and deeply, unshakeably powerful.
The door opened softly.
Alessandro walked in. He wore a sharp black tuxedo, but his tie was slightly undone, and holding his hand was a two-year-old little girl with dark curls and striking, unmistakable gray eyes—their daughter, Elena.
Little Elena ran forward, holding the hem of Mabel’s dress. “Mama pretty!”
Mabel laughed, kneeling down to scoop her daughter into her arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Alessandro walked up behind them, wrapping his strong arms around both of his girls, resting his chin on Mabel’s shoulder. He looked at their reflection in the mirror.
“You know,” Alessandro murmured softly into her ear, “three years ago, you fed a filthy, freezing stranger on the street because you couldn't bear to watch a human being humiliated.”
Mabel turned her head, smiling up at him. “And three years ago, that stranger turned out to be the most terrifying man in Chicago.”
“And now,” Alessandro smiled, kissing her lips tenderly, “you are the queen of this city. Every dock, every trust, every brick—it belongs to us. But nothing I own matters compared to the woman who loved me when I had nothing.”
Mabel rested her hand over his heart, feeling its steady, unbreakable beat.
“We survived the storm, Alessandro,” she whispered.
May you like
“We did,” he agreed, his gray eyes shining with fierce, eternal devotion. “And no one will ever touch our family again.”
Outside, the snow fell softly over the Chicago skyline, blanketing the city in white—a city ruled not by fear, but by a king and queen forged in the fire of true love.
