Chapter 6 - The Coronation of the Queen
One year later.
The Greenwich mansion was no longer a dark fortress of fear and secrets. The heavy velvet curtains had been replaced with sheer white silk, letting the morning sun pour across the polished marble floors. The bloodstains were gone, buried beneath new beginnings.
The grand ballroom was filled with hundreds of powerful guests. But this wasn't a meeting of the Commission; it was a celebration. The heads of the five families sat in the front rows, their expressions humbled, their weapons left at the door.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bride's dressing room, staring at my reflection. I wore a breathtaking off-the-shoulder gown of pure white lace, my hair pinned back with a diamond tiara that had belonged to the Romano family matriarch generations ago.
The door opened, and Leo walked in, dressed in a sharp tuxedo. He smiled warmly, extending his arm to me. "The priest is ready, Nina. And my brother is losing his mind out there waiting for you. If you don't walk down that aisle in two minutes, he might actually shoot someone out of nerves."
I laughed, the sound bright and free, a stark contrast to the girl who had trembled with a bottle of poisoned pills twelve months ago. "Let's not test his patience today."
As the grand double doors of the ballroom opened, a beautiful string quartet began to play. I walked down the aisle, my arm laced through Leo's, my eyes locked instantly on the man standing at the altar.
Alexander Romano looked magnificent. His dark suit was tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, his hair brushed back, his jaw square and proud. The dangerous aura that usually surrounded him was completely gone, replaced by a look of pure, unfiltered reverence as he watched me walk toward him.
When Leo placed my hand in Alexander’s, his grip was warm, strong, and steady.
"You look beautiful, my queen," he whispered, his voice for my ears only.
The ceremony passed in a beautiful blur of vows, rings, and promises meant to last a lifetime. When the priest finally pronounced us husband and wife, Alexander pulled me close, kissing me with a passion that made the entire ballroom erupt into a roaring, standing ovation. The most dangerous men in the country were cheering for the housemaid who had tamed their king.
Later that evening, as the reception roared downstairs, Alexander led me up to the master bedroom—the very room where our story had truly begun.
The room was filled with soft candlelight and the scent of fresh roses. Alexander closed the door, locking it behind him, before walking over to me. He gently reached around my neck, unhooking the diamond tiara, letting my hair fall down my shoulders.
He leaned his forehead against mine, his hands resting gently on my waist.
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"A year ago, someone tried to take everything from me in this room," Alexander whispered, his dark eyes filled with a profound, emotional warmth. "But instead, they gave me you. You saved my life, Nina. Now, I give you my heart, my empire, and my soul. Forever."
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss that sealed our fate. The storm had passed, the wolves had been destroyed, and the king finally had his queen.
