Chapter 10 - The Real Queen
One year later.
The St. Patrick's Cathedral in Manhattan was filled with thousands of white lilies, soft candlelight, and over six hundred distinguished guests.
The city’s grandest wedding of the decade was underway.
I stood at the back of the grand aisle in a sweeping, hand-embroidered lace wedding dress designed by Elie Saab, carrying a bouquet of rare blue orchids. Beside me stood my father, who was crying tears of immense pride.
And standing at the altar, waiting for me with a look of pure, breathtaking devotion, was Julian Mercer.
He stood tall, imposing, and magnificent in his tailored black tuxedo, his eyes fixed entirely on me as if the six hundred wealthy guests in the pews didn't even exist.
As my father walked me down the long white carpet, I caught sight of the front pews.
My own independent event firm, Reed & Mercer Events, was now the most sought-after agency on the East Coast, employing forty full-time staff members. Victor Mercer had been ousted from the board entirely, while Damian Cross was nothing more than a forgotten shadow in a distant town.
I reached the altar. Julian stepped forward, taking my hand in his broad, warm grip, his thumb softly rubbing the back of my fingers.
The cardinal raised his hands, pronouncing the sacred vows.
When it came time for Julian to speak, he didn't read from a card. He looked directly into my eyes, his deep baritone voice echoing through the massive stone cathedral.
"A year ago, I watched the most extraordinary woman in the world stand in a cold ballroom while small men tried to make her feel small," Julian said, his voice thick with raw emotion. "I swore that day I would spend every second of my existence ensuring she never shed another tear."
Julian slid a breathtaking diamond band onto my finger, beneath the original engagement ring.
"Ava," Julian whispered, smiling radiantly. "You are my heart, my home, and my queen. I am yours, forever."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife!" the cardinal announced joyfully. "You may kiss the bride!"
Julian pulled me into his arms, dipping me back gently against his arm, and kissed me with a deep, passionate intensity that sent thunderous applause erupting through the cathedral.
As we walked out of the church hand-in-hand into the bright New York sunshine, surrounded by flashing cameras, cheering crowds, and falling rose petals, I looked up at my husband.
May you like
The champagne was gone. The humiliation was erased.
The girl who had once played dress-up in a cheap dress was now standing beside the king of New York—and together, our sovereign story was just beginning.
