Chapter 10 – THE WEDDING IN THE GARDEN
Spring arrived in Chicago, washing away the bitter winter and covering the Moretti estate in vibrant, blooming colors.
The day of the wedding was perfectly clear, the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue.
I stood in the master suite, looking at myself in the full-length antique mirror.
I wore a simple, elegant ivory silk gown, with delicate lace sleeves and a long, flowing train.
Rosa stood behind me, gently fastening a pearl necklace around my neck.
“You look breathtaking, Natalie,” Rosa whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Thank you, Rosa,” I smiled, squeezing her hand.
A knock came at the door, and my father walked in.
He looked incredibly handsome in a tailored black tuxedo, his gray hair neatly combed. He looked healthier and happier than he had in twenty years.
When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes filling with tears.
“Oh, Nat,” he choked out. “You look just like your mother.”
I walked over and hugged him tightly, careful not to crush my dress.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Dad.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he smiled, offering me his arm.
We walked down the grand staircase, out the French doors, and into the sprawling estate gardens.
The wedding was small and intimate. Only fifty guests. Close friends, loyal staff who were now treated as family, and the people we trusted most.
There were no politicians, no rival bosses, no shadows.
As the string quartet began to play, I walked down the aisle of white rose petals.
At the end of the aisle stood Luca.
He wore a classic black tuxedo, looking more handsome than I had ever seen him.
When his eyes locked onto mine, a smile broke across his face—a smile so pure, so full of absolute love, that it made my knees weak.
My father walked me to the altar, gently placed my hand in Luca’s, and stepped back.
Luca squeezed my fingers, his thumb brushing over the diamond and sapphire engagement ring.
“You are perfect,” he whispered.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Moretti,” I whispered back.
The ceremony was beautiful, filled with laughter, happy tears, and vows that we had written ourselves—promises of safety, loyalty, and a future built on truth.
When the priest finally pronounced us husband and wife, Luca didn’t hesitate.
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply, and the entire garden erupted into cheers and applause.
The reception was held on the grand patio under a canopy of fairy lights.
We danced, we laughed, and we ate Thomas’s incredible food.
Marco, looking surprisingly dapper in a tuxedo, raised a glass of champagne to toast us, his speech surprisingly emotional for a hardened security chief.
As the night wound down, Luca took my hand and led me away from the crowded dance floor, toward the quiet, moonlit edge of the gardens.
He pulled me into his arms, swaying gently to the faint music playing in the distance.
“Are you happy, Mrs. Moretti?” he asked softly, resting his forehead against mine.
I looked up at the man who had terrified me, protected me, and ultimately, given me everything I ever wanted.
“I’ve never been happier in my entire life,” I answered honestly.
He kissed me again, slow and sweet under the stars.
The past was behind us. The future was ours.
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