Chapter 7 - The Wedding in the Rain
We married in June.
It rained.
Of course it did.
Chicago weather had a sense of humor.
The ceremony was held at Isabella’s estate.
White flowers.
String lights.
Family.
Friends.
No reporters.
No cameras.
Just people we trusted.
Daniel walked me down the aisle.
Luca waited under the arch.
When he saw me, his face changed.
For a second, I forgot every scandal.
Every threat.
Every secret.
There was only him.
He whispered when I reached him.
“You came.”
I smiled.
“You asked.”
The ceremony was beautiful.
Our vows were simple.
Luca promised never to turn protection into control.
I promised never to sacrifice myself to make someone else comfortable.
We promised to choose each other every day.
When we kissed, everyone applauded.
Even Julian cried.
“I thought you'd be stronger,” Luca told him afterward.
“I’m sensitive.”
“You're unbearable.”
“Family trait.”
The reception was smaller than the wedding planner had imagined.
But it was perfect.
Daniel danced with my sister.
Luca’s mother cried.
Julian gave the worst toast of the century.
And at midnight, we stood beneath the rain.
I laughed.
“This is ridiculous.”
Luca pulled me closer.
“It’s perfect.”
“Why?”
“Because it isn't what we planned.”
“Nothing about us was planned.”
He smiled.
“That’s why it worked.”
Weeks after the wedding, the trust was activated.
The files were released.
Several former officials were investigated.
Arthur faced additional charges.
Victor testified.
Moretti Holdings emerged with stronger governance and new leadership standards.
Luca chose not to become more ruthless.
Instead, he changed.
He created a foundation in Isabella’s name.
I helped.
We funded cancer research.
Scholarships.
Programs for families dealing with long-term illness.
Daniel became an adviser.
My sister joined the board.
Our families slowly became one.
Even the Moretti name stopped sounding frightening.
It became simply a family name.
One evening, Luca and I walked through the old ballroom.
The place where he had first introduced me as his fake girlfriend.
He stopped.
“Do you remember?”
“Yes.”
“You hated me.”
“I did.”
“And now?”
I looked at my husband.
“I love you.”
May you like
He kissed me.
“Good.”
