Chapter 25 - The Bride Who Refused to Run
Clara walked down the aisle while an armed traitor crawled beneath the estate.
She knew.
Roman knew.
Marcus knew.
Nobody else did.
Leo held her arm.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m getting married.”
“That’s the reason?”
“Mostly.”
Leo smiled.
At the altar, Roman watched her with an expression Clara had never seen before.
Wonder.
Not possession.
Not fear.
Not vigilance.
Wonder.
For one beautiful minute, there was no Duca empire.
No blood feud.
No ghosts.
Only Roman.
Only Clara.
The officiant began.
“Today we gather—”
Marcus touched his earpiece.
Roman noticed.
Clara noticed Roman noticing.
Neither moved.
Tunnel breach.
Thirty meters.
Roman’s hand closed around Clara’s.
The officiant continued.
Clara smiled.
Roman lowered his voice.
“We can stop.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“I spent months nearly being killed around you.”
“This is not reassuring.”
“I am finishing my vows.”
He almost laughed.
Then Clara spoke.
“I, Clara Bennett, choose you knowing exactly who you are.”
Roman’s expression changed.
“I choose the man who frightened me, protected me, infuriated me, and learned that loving someone means letting them stand beside you.”
Somewhere behind the stone walls, Marcus’s men moved into position.
“I will not ask you to become harmless.”
Guests smiled.
Catherine cried.
“I will ask you to become honest.”
Roman’s eyes glistened.
“And when you forget that surviving is not the same thing as living, I promise to remind you loudly.”
Laughter rippled through the chapel.
Roman whispered, “Accurate.”
Then came his turn.
He held both her hands.
“I spent most of my life believing everything valuable had to be guarded.”
His voice remained deep but unsteady.
“Then you fell into my lap and proved the most valuable person I would ever know could not be guarded like property.”
Clara’s eyes filled.
“You were never mine because I held your wrist.”
He touched the ring on her hand.
“You became mine because you chose to stay.”
Behind him, the old tunnel door silently opened.
Samuel Trent emerged holding a pistol.
Marcus stepped from the shadows behind him.
“Bad timing.”
Trent froze.
Guests gasped.
Roman did not even turn.
Marcus pressed a gun against Trent’s back.
“Drop it.”
Trent looked toward Roman.
“You destroyed everything Antonio built!”
Roman finally faced him.
“No.”
Trent’s face twisted.
“You gave money away! Opened the books! Let federal parasites crawl through our accounts!”
“I corrected theft.”
“You weakened the family!”
Roman glanced at Clara.
Then back at Trent.
“You misunderstand strength.”
Trent raised his weapon.
Marcus fired once.
The bullet struck Trent’s shoulder.
He collapsed screaming.
Security swarmed him.
The chapel erupted into panic.
Roman looked at the officiant.
“Continue.”
The elderly man stared.
“Mr. Duca—”
“Please.”
Clara laughed through tears.
The guests slowly settled.
Trent was dragged away.
Blood was cleaned from the stone floor.
Roman turned back to Clara.
“Where were we?”
“You were about to promise obedience.”
“I believe that part was removed.”
“Coward.”
The officiant cleared his throat.
“Do you, Roman Duca—”
“Yes.”
The room laughed.
“And do you, Clara Bennett—”
“Yes.”
Roman slid the wedding band onto her finger.
The officiant smiled.
“You may kiss your wife.”
Roman did.
Not like a mafia king claiming something.
Like a man finally understanding that he had been given something.
A choice.
A future.
A home.
Outside, bells rang across the snowy estate.
Samuel Trent was taken into federal custody.
Marcus returned halfway through the reception.
Roman handed him a glass.
“Is he alive?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Good.”
Marcus looked surprised.
Roman watched Clara laughing with Leo and Adrian.
“I have plans tomorrow.”
Marcus smiled.
“You’re changing.”
Roman took a sip.
“Don’t spread it around.”
Across the room, Clara caught Roman staring.
She lifted her champagne glass.
May you like
He lifted his.
For the first time since she had fallen into his life, neither of them was running.
