Chapter 15 - The Vow We Chose
One Year Later.
The warm June breeze swept across the private terrace of the Moretti vineyard estate in Lake Geneva, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and ripe grapes.
The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of gold, rose, and amber.
I stood by the stone balustrade in a simple, elegant ivory silk gown, holding a glass of white wine.
In the garden below, my younger brother Leo was laughing, tossing a football with Marcus, who had made a full recovery from the ambush and now served as head of our private estate security. My parents sat under the arbor, drinking tea in peaceful, quiet serenity.
Bennett Logistics had been restructured into a thriving, ethical freight company under my direct management, and Leo was fully cleared by his doctors, preparing to start his freshman year at university.
Dante Marcone and Luke had both been convicted in federal court six months ago, sentenced to thirty years without possibility of parole at ADX Florence. The syndicate had been dismantled from the roots up.
A pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
Gabriel pulled me back against his broad chest, his lips brushing the sensitive curve of my neck.
“You’re thinking too loudly, my love,” Gabriel murmured, his voice rich, deep, and filled with a warmth that had completely transformed his once-cold existence.
I smiled, leaning back against him, covering his hands with mine.
“I was just thinking about the first time I stood at an altar with you,” I said, turning in his embrace to look up into his striking dark eyes. “I was so terrified. I thought my life was over.”
Gabriel looked down at me, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear. His gaze held a depth of devotion that still took my breath away every single day.
“And today?” he asked softly.
Today was the twelve-month mark. The day the original contract expired. The day Harold Vance had prepared the divorce dissolution papers, which sat unsigned in the study drawer.
Instead of signing those divorce papers, Gabriel had gathered fifty of our closest friends, colleagues, and family in the vineyard gardens below.
“Today,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck, “I’m standing at the altar with the only man I have ever truly loved.”
Gabriel smiled—a breathtaking, genuine smile that lit up his handsome face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
Inside was a simple, handcrafted platinum band, engraved with the coordinates of our first dance on the penthouse terrace.
“Claire Bennett,” Gabriel said, his voice trembling with an emotion so deep it resonated in my soul. “One year ago, you were forced to take my name to survive a storm. Today, with no debts, no contracts, and no threats in this world… will you choose to be my wife?”
Tears of pure happiness welled in my eyes.
I didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second.
“Yes,” I cried softly, pulling him down to me. “A thousand times, yes.”
Gabriel slipped the ring onto my finger, framed by the setting sun, and kissed me with a fierce, tender passion that sealed our future forever.
I had walked down an aisle of betrayal to a man I thought was my captor.
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And in his arms, I had found my freedom, my protector, and the love of my life.
THE END
