Chapter 7 - The Wedding Where I Was Awake
Four months later, my mother walked into a New York courtroom carrying a new medical report.
Her treatment had worked.
She wasn't cured.
But she was stronger.
Victor Costa had been indicted along with several officials named in my father's records.
Dominic cooperated with investigators regarding crimes committed under his father's leadership and began separating legitimate Rossi companies from everything that had built the family's reputation.
It cost him money.
Influence.
Men he had known since childhood.
He never complained.
One afternoon, he placed an envelope on my kitchen table.
“What is it?”
“Annulment papers.”
I stared at him.
“You signed them?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened unexpectedly.
Dominic stood.
“You deserve a choice you didn't have the first time.”
He walked toward the door.
“Dominic.”
He stopped.
“You forgot something.”
“What?”
I removed the gold ring.
His face became unreadable.
I placed it on the table.
Then pushed the annulment papers toward him.
“Those aren't necessary.”
He stared at me.
“Claire.”
“I said the first wedding didn't count.”
“Yes.”
“So ask properly.”
For perhaps the first time in his life, Dominic Rossi looked completely unprepared.
“Now?”
“Unless you're busy.”
He slowly approached.
Then he did something I never expected.
He got down on one knee.
“No hospital.”
I smiled.
“No ventilator.”
“No gunshots.”
“Preferably.”
“No unconscious bride.”
“Very important.”
Dominic took the ring.
“Claire Bennett, I can't promise you a simple life.”
“I've noticed.”
“I can't change who my father was.”
“No.”
“But I can decide who I become.”
His voice softened.
“And I want to become that man beside you.”
He held up the ring.
“Will you marry me when you're awake enough to say no?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
---
Our second wedding happened six weeks later.
Small.
Forty guests instead of two hundred.
My mother sat beside Isabella in the front row.
Enzo stood behind Dominic.
Before the ceremony, Isabella whispered to me:
“You know, technically you're marrying my son twice.”
“I'm hoping this one has fewer bullets.”
“So am I.”
Dominic waited beneath an arch covered in white roses.
Same dark eyes.
Same intimidating presence.
Same tattoos visible beneath his cuffs.
But this time, when I walked toward him, I wasn't wearing a catering uniform soaked in blood.
I was awake.
I was choosing him.
When I reached him, Dominic whispered:
“You can still run.”
“You'd chase me.”
“Immediately.”
I smiled.
“Then let's save ourselves the exercise.”
The officiant cleared his throat.
“Shall we begin?”
Dominic took my hands.
“Yes.”
After the vows, he slid the same gold ring onto my finger.
This time he asked first.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
The ring settled into place.
Applause filled the garden.
My mother cried.
Isabella cried harder.
Even Enzo suspiciously looked away.
Dominic leaned toward me.
“Mrs. Rossi.”
“Don't get comfortable.”
“Too late.”
I kissed him.
Months earlier, seven bullets had brought me into Dominic Rossi's world.
For a long time, I thought the gold ring on my finger represented the night my choices had been stolen from me.
I was wrong.
The first time Dominic put it there, he did it because he was desperate to keep me alive.
The second time, he offered it with an open hand.
And I chose to take it.
Not because he was feared.
Not because he was powerful.
Not because I owed him my life.
But because when the truth finally destroyed everything Dominic Rossi had inherited, he chose to build something better.
And this time, when he whispered beside me—
“Anyone who comes for you comes through me.”
I squeezed his hand.
“No.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
I smiled.
“Anyone who comes for either of us comes through both of us.”
For once, the most feared man in New York didn't argue.
“Deal.”
May you like
And under white roses, with both our mothers laughing in the front row, Dominic kissed his wife.
His conscious, stubborn, completely willing wife.
