Chapter 10 - The Family We Chose
Six months later, the Grand Ballroom of Bellamy House was once again illuminated by towering crystal chandeliers.
The air smelled of tuberose, burning wax, and vintage wine.
The elite of Chicago were gathered once more, dressed in their finest silks and tuxedos. But this time, it was not an impersonal corporate gala.
It was our wedding.
I stood in the center of the ballroom, wearing an ivory lace gown with an open back that proudly displayed the faint, silver line of the scar on my flank. The scar wasn't a mark of tragedy anymore; it was the foundation upon which my entire life had been rebuilt.
Beside me stood Damian, looking breathtaking in his tuxedo, wearing a silver wedding band that matched mine. His hand was resting gently against the small of my back, anchoring me to him with that steady, unbreakable warmth.
And in front of us stood Luca, looking dashing in his miniature tuxedo, proudly carrying a silver velvet pillow that held our vows—along with a small, plastic velociraptor tucked discreetly beneath the ribbon.
“Are we a real family now?” Luca asked, looking up at us with wide, hopeful hazel eyes.
Damian dropped down to one knee on the polished marble floor—the exact spot where he had knelt beside me when I was bleeding out six months ago. He ruffled his son’s hair with a rare, radiant grin.
“We’ve been a real family since the second she jumped in front of that glass, Luca,” Damian said softly. “Today, we just made it official for the rest of the world.”
Luca beamed, throwing his little arms around Damian’s neck, and Damian pulled me down into the embrace with them, holding both of us in a circle of absolute love and protection.
The applause from the crowd thundered around the ballroom, but for the first time in his life, Damian Vescari wasn't looking at the crowd. He wasn't scanning the exits, watching the balconies, or calculating threats.
He looked only at me.
“Thank you,” he murmured against my lips as the music swelled.
“For what?” I whispered back, smiling against his mouth.
“For taking the glass,” he said, his eyes shining with pure devotion. “And for teaching me that the greatest power in this world isn't fear. It’s love.”
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And as we danced across the marble beneath the shimmering lights, I knew that the server with twenty-three dollars in her account had vanished forever.
In her place stood a woman who had walked through shattered glass, conquered the darkest beast in the city, and found her forever home.
