Chapter 9 - The Grand Celebration
Three months later, St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Midtown Manhattan was closed to the public for the grandest wedding New York had seen in fifty years.
Outside, hundreds of journalists, photographers, and curious onlookers lined the streets, guarded by a security perimeter of three hundred armed Moretti soldiers wearing sharp tuxedos.
Inside, the grand cathedral was decorated with thousands of white orchids, glowing candles, and velvet ribbons. The pews were filled with politicians, judges, union leaders, and the heads of every major family on the East Coast.
At the altar stood Rico, looking impossibly handsome in a custom charcoal tuxedo, his hair styled, his ice-blue eyes fixed entirely on the heavy oak doors at the back of the church.
Standing beside him as the best man was Dante, looking uncomfortable in his formal suit, while four-year-old Leo stood in front, holding a small satin pillow with the wedding bands, grinning from ear to ear.
The grand pipe organ began to play the opening chords of the bridal march.
The double doors swung open.
Clara walked down the long, carpeted aisle, framed by the warm stained-glass sunlight. She wore an exquisite lace wedding gown with a cascading veil, her hazel eyes shining with absolute joy. Walking beside her, giving her away, was old Don Luciano, who had insisted on acting as her honorary godfather.
Rico watched her approach, his heart pounding against his ribs faster than it ever had during any gunfight or war.
When she reached the altar, Don Luciano placed Clara’s hand into Rico’s.
"Take care of her, Rico," the old Don whispered. "She is the heart of Brooklyn."
"With my life," Rico vowed softly.
The ceremony was breathtaking, sacred, and serene. When the cardinal asked for the rings, Leo stepped forward proudly, handing the gold bands to his father.
"Do you, Ricardo Rico Moretti, take Clara Vance to be your lawful wedded wife?"
"I do," Rico said, his voice unwavering, absolute, echoing through the cathedral halls.
"And do you, Clara Vance, take Ricardo Rico Moretti to be your lawful wedded husband?"
"I do," Clara smiled, tears of joy streaming down her face.
"By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Rico didn't hesitate. He pulled Clara into his arms, dipping her slightly as he pressed a deep, passionate kiss to her lips. The cathedral erupted into deafening applause, cheerings, and standing ovations from five hundred witnesses.
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Leo jumped up and down, clapping his hands. "Yay! Mommy and Daddy!"
Rico lifted Leo into his right arm, holding Clara’s hand with his left, and together, the new Moretti family walked down the aisle toward the bright sunlight waiting outside.
