Chapter 20 - Long Live the Queen
Three months later, the scars on the estate had been completely repaired, the bullet holes patched, and the marble polished to a mirror shine.
The criminal underworld of the East Coast was quieter than it had been in a decade, completely pacified by the absolute dominance of the Moretti family.
The grand ballroom, the very same room Clara used to scrub until her knees bled, was now filled with thousands of white roses.
There was no priest, and there was no church.
They were creatures of the dark, and they belonged only to each other.
Arthur stood at the end of the aisle, looking impossibly handsome in a sharp black tuxedo, resting his weight slightly on a silver-tipped cane.
His recovery had been brutal, but the fierce determination to stand beside his bride had forced him out of his sickbed weeks ahead of schedule.
The string quartet began to play a haunting, beautiful melody as the massive mahogany doors swung open.
Clara walked down the aisle, taking the breath away from every hardened criminal in the room.
She wore a stunning, form-fitting gown of ivory silk, a delicate veil trailing behind her like spun glass.
But it was the confident, lethal grace of her stride that commanded the absolute respect of the room.
She was no longer hiding in the shadows of the estate; she owned every inch of it.
When she reached the end of the aisle, Arthur handed his cane to his best man and took both of her hands in his.
His dark eyes were entirely consumed by her, burning with an obsessive, eternal fire that would never burn out.
“You saved my life, Clara,” Arthur whispered, his voice thick with raw emotion, meant only for her.
“And you gave me one worth living,” she replied, smiling softly as a tear finally slipped down her cheek.
They did not exchange long, traditional vows.
Their loyalty had already been tested by fire, bound in blood, and sealed by the violent crucible of their reality.
Arthur pulled her in by the waist, crushing his mouth against hers in a passionate, claiming kiss that made the entire room erupt into applause.
He kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe, totally unbothered by the hundreds of eyes watching his vulnerability.
When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, a genuine, completely unburdened smile lighting up his face.
The men in the room raised their glasses of expensive champagne, their voices booming in unison.
“To the King and Queen!” the captains cheered, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the grand estate.
Clara looked out at the empire she had helped secure, feeling the heavy diamond ring cold and familiar on her finger.
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She had started as an invisible girl trying to clean up someone else's mess.
Now, she was the undisputed queen of the city, and she was never going to be invisible again.
