Chapter 15 - Sunrise Over Lake Michigan (The End)
The wedding took place the following summer on the rebuilt lawns of the Moretti estate.
There were no armed sentries hiding behind the weeping willows.
No red laser sights dancing across the stone balustrades.
The rebuilt mansion was magnificent—white limestone, sprawling glass terraces, and warm oak doors that remained wide open to the summer breeze.
Two hundred guests gathered on the manicured grass.
Not mobsters with hidden revolvers.
Port directors, charity trustees, university professors, and civic leaders.
Isabella stood as my maid of honor, looking breathtaking in soft lavender silk.
Beside Luca stood his new head of commercial security, a retired Coast Guard captain whose background had been thoroughly vetted by my own encryption audits.
When the music started, I walked down the white runner on the arm of my uncle, Marcus Vance’s younger brother, who had flown in from Seattle.
My dress was simple, elegant white satin with a cathedral veil that drifted behind me like morning mist.
At the altar stood Luca.
His eyes were filled with tears he made no effort to wipe away.
When my uncle placed my hand into Luca’s, Luca squeezed my fingers tightly.
“You look like an angel,” he whispered against my ear.
“And you look like a man who finally found peace,” I answered.
The vows were simple.
They were not oaths of omertà or syndicate loyalty.
They were vows of truth, honor, and unshakeable love.
When the minister pronounced us husband and wife, Luca pulled me into his arms and kissed me with a tenderness that made the entire lawn erupt into joyful cheers.
Later that evening, after the music had softened and the last guests were laughing on the terrace, Luca and I walked down the stone steps toward the private pier.
The water of Lake Michigan was calm, reflecting the golden light of the setting sun.
We walked to the end of the wooden dock where the racing boat had once carried us through gunfire.
Luca stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his hands resting gently over my stomach.
A secret we had learned just three days earlier.
A new life.
A true Moretti heir who would never know the sound of a gunshot or the terror of an unauthorized visitor at 3:14 a.m.
“What are you thinking about, Mrs. Moretti?” Luca whispered against my neck.
I looked out over the endless blue water where the sun dipped beneath the horizon, turning the sky into liquid gold.
I touched the heavy emerald-cut diamond on my left hand.
Then I leaned back against the solid warmth of my husband's chest.
“I was thinking about visitor logs,” I murmured with a soft, triumphant smile.
Luca chuckled softly, kissing the side of my neck.
“And what do the logs say, my love?”
I smiled, closing my eyes and listening to the peaceful rhythm of the waves.
“Access granted,” I whispered.
May you like
“Permanently.”
THE END
