Every employee in the VIP penthouse lounge stopped breathing.

One Year Later.

The grand lobby of the Morreti Tower was closed to the public.

Instead of hurried businessmen and rolling luggage, the marble floor was covered in white rose petals. Soft string music floated through the air, replacing the usual chaotic sounds of downtown Chicago.

Clara stood at the top of the grand staircase, wearing a breathtaking white silk gown. Her sister, fully recovered thanks to the best medical care in the world, stood beside her holding a bouquet.

At the bottom of the stairs stood Julian.

He wasn't wearing his usual intimidating charcoal armor. He wore a classic black tuxedo, and for the first time in his life, he looked completely, unguardedly nervous. Victor Thorne stood behind him as the best man, looking terrifyingly out of place with a pink boutonniere pinned to his massive chest.

Clara walked down the stairs, her eyes locked onto Julian’s. The ruthless billionaire who had once terrified an entire city now looked at her like she was the only oxygen left on earth.

When she reached the bottom, Julian took her hands. His thumb gently stroked her knuckles.

"I used to think power was making people fear you," Julian whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. "But it's not. True power is finding the one thing you can't live without, and having the privilege of protecting it forever."

Clara smiled, tears shimmering in her eyes. "Are you going to be taking orders from me for the rest of our lives, Mr. Morreti?"

Julian leaned in, his lips brushing against hers before the priest even began speaking.