Chapter 10 - The Sovereign Family
Six months later.
The summer sun shone brightly over the private grounds of the Moretti estate in Westchester County—a sprawling sixty-acre property surrounded by high stone walls, lush rose gardens, and state-of-the-art security systems.
A large white marquee tent was set up on the main lawn for a double celebration: Leo’s baptism and our second wedding.
Over three hundred guests filled the white chairs—business executives, politicians, and the high-ranking members of the Commission. Sal Russo had officially retired and fled to Sicily after I leaked three redacted pages of his tax audit to his board members, leaving the harbor entirely under Moretti control.
I stood in the bride's dressing room on the second floor, wearing a breathtaking lace dress that fitted my restored figure perfectly.
In my arms, six-month-old Leo gurgled happily, wearing a tiny white baptism suit. He had Adrian's dark, piercing gray eyes and my smile.
A knock sounded on the door, and Adrian walked in.
He looked impossibly dashing in a navy-blue tuxedo. He walked straight over to us, wrapping his arm around my waist and leaning down to kiss Leo's cheek, making the baby giggle out loud.
"The priest is ready, Mrs. Moretti," Adrian whispered into my ear, his hand sliding down to rest against my back.
"Are you ready, Mr. Moretti?" I asked, looking up at his handsome face in the mirror. "No more divorce papers? No more secret safehouses?"
"Never again," Adrian said, his voice deep, solid, and filled with unwavering devotion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh, unspotted velvet ring box. Inside was my original diamond wedding band, accompanied by a new, massive pink diamond eternity band.
He took my hand, sliding both rings onto my finger.
"Sixty-three days after our divorce, you told me I couldn't claim what I had let go," Adrian murmured, looking deeply into my eyes. "You were right. I didn't deserve you. I didn't deserve Leo. But I will spend every second of every day for the rest of my life making sure you never doubt where you belong."
"I know where I belong," I smiled, leaning up to press my lips against his. "Right here. Managing you."
Adrian let out a deep, warm laugh, taking Leo into his broad, muscular arms. He held our son against his chest with natural, practiced ease—no longer the cold, feared Don of Manhattan, but a devoted father and husband.
We walked down the grand marble staircase together, out onto the sunlit lawn, where our family and friends stood up to applaud.
As we stood before the altar beneath the clear blue summer sky, I looked at the man beside me. The man who had once terrified an entire city, now looking at me as though I held the sun in my hands.
May you like
Our journey hadn't been easy. It had been forged in blood, secrets, heartbreak, and rain. But as Adrian held my hand tight and we made our vows under the eyes of God and our son, I knew one thing for certain:
The most feared man in New York had finally found his home. And it belonged entirely to us.
