Chapter 10 - The Queen’s Reign
Six months later.
A bright, glorious summer sun shone down on the rolling hills of the Marchetti estate in Lake Forest.
The grand gardens were transformed into a fairy-tale sanctuary, filled with thousands of fragrant white roses, crystal archways, and rows of golden chairs occupied by five hundred guests—senators, judges, international business tycoons, and the heads of every syndicate family in North America.
Soft classical music drifted through the warm afternoon breeze as the heavy oak doors of the mansion opened.
Adeline stepped out onto the marble terrace.
She was breathtaking—wearing a custom lace wedding dress with a long, flowing train that swept across the white carpet, a delicate diamond tiara resting upon her dark hair. Walking beside her, holding her arm with immense pride, was Mrs. Gable, who looked radiant in a deep navy gown.
At the altar beneath the floral archway stood Enzo Marchetti.
He looked magnificently handsome in a dark midnight-blue tuxedo. As he watched his bride walk down the aisle toward him, the feared mob boss’s eyes glistened with unshed tears of pure, overwhelming love.
When Adeline reached the altar, Enzo took her hands into his large, warm palms, gazing at her as if she were the only person in the universe.
The ceremony was brief, elegant, and solemn.
"By the authority vested in me," the priest pronounced, his voice echoing across the silent, respectful crowd, "I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Enzo didn't hesitate. He wrapped his broad arms around Adeline’s waist, pulling her flush against his body, and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss that brought the entire audience to their feet in a thunderous standing ovation.
That evening, the grand ballroom—once the site of Camilla Ashford’s cruelty—was filled with warm golden light, laughter, and champagne.
Adeline stood on the balcony overlooking the illuminated gardens, holding a crystal glass of sparkling cider.
Enzo stepped out from the ballroom, holding his jacket in one hand, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest as the cool night breeze swept through her veil.
"What are you thinking about, Mrs. Marchetti?" Enzo whispered into her ear, his thumb gently stroking her gold wedding band.
Adeline looked out over the vast, peaceful estate, then looked up into the dark grey eyes of the man who had risked everything to protect her, honor her, and elevate her to his side.
She remembered the day she had walked into this house eleven days before the party—cold, penniless, expecting only harsh words and endless labor. And she remembered the moment he had caught the leather crop in midair, dropped his coat over her bleeding shoulders, and chosen her over the world.
"I was thinking," Adeline smiled, leaning up to press a soft, loving kiss against his jaw, "that taking that glass out of Camilla's hand was the best decision I ever made."
May you like
Enzo let out a low, warm laugh, pulling her closer into his embrace under the starry sky.
"No, little bird," Enzo whispered, kissing her deeply as the stars shone brightly above their empire. "The best decision was mine... when I decided never to let you go."
