Chapter 9 - The Wedding on Lake Washington
Late September brought crisp, golden autumn weather to Seattle.
The wedding of Dante Moretti and Claire Callahan was held on the grand lawn of the Mercer Island estate, overlooking the sparkling blue waters of Lake Washington.
It was not a mafia spectacle. There were no armed guards in sight, no shady political figures, and no underworld bosses.
The lawn was decorated with thousands of white roses, pale blue hydrangeas, and glowing lanterns. Sixty guests were present—Claire’s closest colleagues from Harbor Ridge Hospital, her neighbor Kate, and Dante’s closest legal and business associates.
Claire stood in the master suite, looking at herself in the full-length mirror.
She wore a custom ivory silk gown with delicate lace sleeves, a cathedral-length veil, and a delicate tiara woven with small white flowers. Her skin was glowing, her dark hair pulled back into an elegant chignon.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Mia walked into the room, wearing a matching white lace flower girl dress, carrying a small wicker basket filled with rose petals.
"Mommy," Mia gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. "You look like a real princess!"
Claire knelt down, adjusting Mia’s flower crown, kissing her cheek softly. "And you look like a little angel, sweetie."
When the string quartet began to play the traditional bridal march, the heavy glass doors opened onto the terrace.
Claire walked down the long, flower-covered aisle on the arm of her chief of surgery from Harbor Ridge, Dr. Richard Evans, who had stepped in to walk her down the aisle.
At the altar stood Dante.
He looked breathtakingly handsome in a tailored dark navy tuxedo, his dark hair neatly styled, his posture tall and proud.
As Claire walked closer, Dante’s eyes never left her. Tears glinted in his dark brown eyes—the former crime lord reduced to pure, overwhelmed emotion by the sheer beauty of the woman walking toward him.
Beside him stood Vance, acting as his best man, looking surprisingly dignified in a sharp suit.
When Dr. Evans placed Claire’s hand in Dante’s, Dante leaned down and whispered, "You are the most breathtaking vision I have ever seen in my life."
The ceremony was gentle, romantic, and deeply moving.
When the priest asked, "Dante Moretti, do you take Claire Callahan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, till death do you part?"
Dante looked directly into Claire’s eyes, his voice firm and unwavering: "I do. With every beat of my heart."
And when the question was turned to Claire, she answered with a bright, radiant smile that illuminated the entire lawn: "I do."
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"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declared. "You may kiss the bride."
Dante didn't hesitate. He pulled Claire into his arms, dipping her slightly as he kissed her deeply beneath the flower arch, while the entire crowd erupted into joyful applause, cheers, and ringing bells.
