Chapter 10 - The Queen of the Estate
The violin music swelled into a triumphant march as Lena walked out onto the sunlit garden terrace on Marcus’s arm.
At the end of the white carpet stood Dominic Marlowe.
He wore a tailored black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt, looking impossibly handsome, commanding, and regal. But as his eyes locked onto Lena walking toward him, the dangerous mafia boss completely vanished, replaced by a man looking at his absolute world with breathtaking, tear-filled wonder.
When Marcus handed Lena’s hand over to Dominic, Dominic gripped her fingers tightly, kissing the back of her hand with intense reverence.
"You are so beautiful, my love," Dominic whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Mr. Marlowe," Lena teased softly, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
The ceremony was elegant, intimate, and deeply emotional.
When the minister reached the vows, Dominic turned to face Lena, taking both her hands in his, speaking without looking at his written notes.
"Lena," Dominic spoke, his deep voice carrying across the quiet garden. "I spent forty years living in darkness, believing that power was the only thing that kept a man alive. You walked into my house with soft hands, a brave heart, and taught me that love is the only true power worth fighting for. I promise to protect you, cherish you, honor your strength, and love you until my very last breath."
Lena wiped a happy tear from her cheek, smiling through her tears.
"Dominic," she read her vows softly. "I came into your house afraid of the world and running from grief. You held my hand when I was exhausted, stood between me and danger, and gave me a home where I am loved exactly as I am. I give you my heart, my life, and my eternal devotion forever."
"By the power vested in me," the minister declared brightly, "I now pronounce you husband and wife! Mr. Marlowe, you may kiss your bride!"
Dominic didn't hesitate.
He pulled Lena into his arms, dipping her back slightly as he pressed his lips to hers in a deep, passionate, breathtaking kiss that made the entire gathering erupt into loud, joyful applause.
Later that night, after the reception had ended and the last guests had departed, the estate fell into a peaceful, golden quiet.
Dominic and Lena stood on the private balcony of the master suite, wrapped in a single velvet blanket, looking out over the calm waters of Lake Michigan.
Dominic held Lena tightly against his chest, his large hand resting gently over her stomach.
"Are you tired, Mrs. Marlowe?" Dominic murmured near her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
Lena leaned back against his powerful frame, turning her head to kiss his jawline, a beautiful, radiant smile on her face.
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"Not at all, Mr. Marlowe," Lena answered softly, holding his hand tightly in hers. "I’m right where I belong."
Dominic smiled—a genuine, warm, contented smile—and tightened his grip around his wife, holding the hand of the woman who had saved his life, healed his heart, and become the undisputed queen of his empire.
