The chapel doors were locked from the inside, and every man guarding them worked for the groom. My father stood beside me in the aisle, squeezing my wrist hard enough to bruise,

Chaos erupted in the grand ballroom.

Journalists whipped out their phones, recording every second of the confrontation. Powerful politicians and corporate moguls who had spent years kissing Damian’s ring suddenly began backing away into the crowd, desperately distancing themselves from a man whose empire was actively collapsing in real-time.

My father stumbled forward, tears streaming down his face, reaching out a trembling hand toward me. “Eliana... please... help us... Damian is going to ruin us... tell him the truth...”

I looked down at the man who had sold me for seventeen million dollars, who had told me never to embarrass him, who had watched without a shred of remorse as his greed destroyed our family.

“You ruined yourself, Father,” I said quietly, my voice devoid of any emotion. “And you did it all by yourself.”

Two federal agents in dark suits pushed their way through the murmuring crowd, walking straight up to Damian Vale, flanked by local NYPD detectives.

“Damian Vale,” the lead federal agent announced, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt. “You are under arrest for federal wire fraud, money laundering, racketeering, and international contraband smuggling. You have the right to remain silent—”

“This is a mistake!” Damian yelled, thrashing violently as the agents grabbed his arms, snapping the cuffs onto his wrists. “This is a setup! Moretti framed me!”

“You framed yourself the moment you thought you could buy a life and treat it like property,” I whispered as they dragged him past me.

Damian glared at me with pure, unadulterated venom, his eyes promising murder before the heavy ballroom doors closed behind him, taking him away to a federal holding cell he would never leave.

My father collapsed onto a velvet chair, burying his face in his hands as he wept openly, utterly broken, abandoned by the powerful men who had used him as a pawn.

Luca looked down at me, a soft, genuine smile touching the corners of his lips.

“Well,” Luca murmured, offering me a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. “That went better than expected.”

I took the crystal flute from his hand, touching the rim lightly against his. “We aren't done yet, Luca. There’s still the matter of the remaining offshore accounts and distributing the foundation back to the charities my mother actually cared about.”

“Everything in good time, partner,” Luca said, his dark eyes sparkling with admiration. “Right now, I think we earned a dance.”

The orchestra conductor, nervously shaking from the sudden drama, hastily signaled the musicians to strike up a smooth, sweeping jazz waltz.

Luca held out his hand.

I placed my hand in his, letting him pull me close as we moved out onto the center of the grand ballroom floor. The surrounding crowd parted respectfully, watching the new king and queen of the underworld glide across the marble under the glittering crystal chandeliers.