Chapter 18 - A Private Ceremony
They didn't get married in a cathedral, and there were no press photographers.
The wedding took place on the private terrace of the Rossi penthouse, overlooking the glittering skyline of Chicago at sunset. There were only ten people in attendance: Matteo’s three most trusted capos, the priest, and Leo, who proudly wore a miniature tuxedo and held a velvet pillow with two rings.
Clara wore a simple, breathtaking slip dress of ivory silk. She didn't need a massive veil or a diamond tiara to prove her worth. She walked out onto the terrace, the autumn wind gently blowing her dark hair, and Matteo felt his breath catch in his throat.
He had spent his life surrounded by beautiful, treacherous women. But looking at Clara, he saw loyalty, fire, and absolute devotion.
"You look perfect," Matteo whispered as she took his hands.
"I look like a woman who finally stopped running," Clara smiled, a single tear of joy slipping down her cheek.
The priest kept it brief. There were no false promises, no theatrics. When it came time for the vows, Matteo didn't repeat the standard lines. He looked deeply into Clara’s eyes.
"I vow to protect you with my life," Matteo swore, his voice thick with emotion. "I vow to raise Leo as my own blood. I vow that as long as I draw breath, no shadow will ever touch this family."
Clara slipped the heavy gold band onto his finger. "And I vow to stand beside you. In the light and in the dark. Forever."
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"I pronounce you husband and wife," the priest smiled.
Matteo pulled her in, kissing her with a fierce, possessive love that sealed their fate. They were no longer just a boss and a maid. They were an empire.
