Chapter 10 - THE TRUE QUEEN OF THE MORETTI ESTATE
Six months later.
The courtyard of the Moretti estate was no longer a symbol of fear and calculated violence.
It was bathed in the warm, golden light of a late spring afternoon. Streamers of white silk draped across the stone arches, and floral arrangements of heirloom roses and jasmine filled the air with a sweet, intoxicating perfume.
The wedding of Luca Moretti and Grace Walker was the event of the decade—though none of the high-society guests, international bankers, or regional syndicate capos dared to call it anything other than a royal coronation.
Standing at the altar beneath a massive floral arbor was Luca, impeccably dressed in a custom charcoal tuxedo, his ice-blue eyes fixed entirely on the stone pathway leading from the mansion.
The string quartet began to play a soft, timeless melody.
The heavy oak doors opened.
Grace walked down the aisle. She wore a stunning, custom-designed ivory lace gown that hugged her voluptuous curves to absolute perfection, her radiant hazel eyes shining with unshed tears of pure joy. On her arm walked Malcolm, the estate’s veteran butler, who looked prouder than if he were giving away his own daughter.
And walking right beside her—tail wagging slowly, wearing a small white silk bow tied around his massive, scarred neck—was Titan.
The guests gasped, but nobody screamed. Because as Titan trotted proudly beside the bride, he looked less like a syndicate guard dog and more like a faithful, majestic prince escorting his true queen.
Grace reached the altar. Luca stepped forward, gently taking her hand from Malcolm and pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her knuckles.
"You look breathtaking," Luca whispered, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.
"You clean up nice yourself, Mr. Moretti," Grace smiled softly.
As the minister began the ceremony, exchanging vows of eternal loyalty, protection, and unconditional love, Luca looked out at the assembled crowd—at Victor Reyes standing tall in the front row, at Marco and Leo cheering quietly from the back, and at the massive mastiffs resting peacefully in the grass nearby.
For twelve years, Luca Moretti had believed that his empire could only survive behind walls of iron, blood, and fear.
He had been wrong.
True power wasn't about who you could destroy. It was about who you could trust enough to let heal your soul.
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When the minister finally pronounced them husband and wife, Luca pulled Grace into his arms and kissed her deeply, sealing an empire built not on terror, but on grace.
And as the sun dipped below the Manhattan skyline, painting the sky in brilliant shades of gold and amber, the Moretti estate finally felt like home.
