Chapter 9 - No More Contracts, No More LiesCharles Rainer's trial began fourteen months after the gala shooting.
Emily testified first.
Victor hated it.
Not because he doubted her.
Because for four hours, attorneys dissected the worst moments of her life.
Her father's death.
The break-in after his funeral.
Her years of fear.
Her contractual marriage.
The gala.
The bullet.
The kidnapping.
The safe houses.
Every wound became evidence.
Victor sat behind prosecutors, unable to intervene.
Emily never looked toward him while answering questions.
Not once.
She did not need to.
She knew he was there.
Rainer's attorney tried to portray her as manipulative.
“Mrs. DeLuca, you married Victor DeLuca while secretly investigating his family, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You concealed evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about aspects of your past.”
“Yes.”
“You disappeared after the gala.”
“Yes.”
The attorney smiled.
“So honesty has not always been your strongest quality.”
Victor's hands curled.
Marco whispered, “Don't murder counsel.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You were planning something.”
Emily remained calm.
“I lied because men connected to Mr. Rainer had murdered my father.”
The attorney paused.
Emily continued.
“I hid because someone shot me.”
A few jurors reacted.
“And I married Victor under a contract both of us understood.”
The attorney tried again.
“You developed romantic feelings for him?”
Victor looked up.
Emily's eyes moved toward him for the first time.
“Yes.”
Something warm moved through Victor.
The attorney smiled.
“So you have personal reasons to support his version of events.”
Emily looked back at counsel.
“I also have bank records, recordings, ballistic evidence, financial transfers, witness statements, and fifteen years of documented correspondence.”
A pause.
“My feelings are not evidence.”
Marco whispered, “I like her.”
Victor replied, “Be quiet.”
Rainer was convicted.
The jury returned guilty verdicts on nearly every major count.
Adrian received a reduced sentence for cooperation.
He would still spend years in prison.
Before being transferred, he requested to speak with Victor.
They met behind glass.
Adrian looked older.
“What happens to my daughter?”
Victor answered, “Nothing.”
“Rainer's people?”
“Gone.”
“You'll keep watching?”
“Yes.”
Adrian nodded.
He stared at Victor for a long time.
“I hated you.”
“I know.”
“You had everything.”
“No.”
Adrian laughed.
“You always say that now.”
Victor remained silent.
Adrian looked toward the guard.
Then back.
“Emily made you weak.”
Victor smiled slightly.
“You said that before.”
“I was wrong.”
Victor waited.
“She made you difficult to predict.”
“Apparently.”
Adrian leaned closer.
“Take care of her.”
Victor's expression cooled.
“You lost the right to say her name.”
Adrian nodded.
“Fair.”
Victor stood.
“Goodbye, Adrian.”
His cousin looked at him.
For a moment, Victor remembered two boys growing up in the same estate.
Racing cars.
Fighting over cards.
Competing for approval.
Then Victor remembered Emily bleeding.
Isabella kidnapped.
Daniel dead.
The past did not disappear because someone looked regretful.
Victor left.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Victor ignored them.
Emily stood near the steps.
Wind moved through her hair.
Her body had healed.
Scars remained.
She had decided not to hide them.
Victor walked toward her.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Emily smiled.
“Our divorce hearing.”
Victor stopped.
He had forgotten.
Almost.
Not really.
They had postponed the legal dissolution twice during the trial.
Now there was no reason left.
The courthouse hearing took eleven minutes.
The judge reviewed their original agreement.
“Both parties continue to consent to dissolution?”
Victor looked at Emily.
She looked at him.
The judge waited.
Victor's heart pounded harder than during gunfights.
Emily finally said, “No.”
The judge looked over her glasses.
“No?”
Emily turned toward Victor.
“No.”
Victor forgot how to speak.
The judge looked at him.
“Mr. DeLuca?”
“No.”
“What exactly are you requesting?”
Victor stood.
Emily raised an eyebrow.
He walked around the table.
“Your Honor, may I have five minutes?”
The judge looked annoyed.
“You had three years.”
Emily laughed.
The judge sighed.
“Five minutes.”
Victor took Emily into the empty hallway.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I was going to ask you the same.”
“I don't want the divorce.”
Victor stared.
“You could have mentioned that yesterday.”
“I wanted to see what you would say.”
“That is cruel.”
“A little.”
Victor paced once.
Emily smiled.
“You look nervous.”
“I am.”
“I have never seen you nervous.”
“That is because you have previously seen me in easier situations, such as assassination attempts.”
Emily laughed.
Victor stopped.
He reached inside his jacket.
Her eyes widened.
“You have a ring?”
“Yes.”
“You brought a ring to our divorce hearing?”
“I believe in preparation.”
She stared.
Victor held the box but did not open it.
“I bought this three months ago.”
“Three months?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you ask?”
“Because you told me to wait until it was over.”
Emily's eyes softened.
“It is over.”
Victor nodded.
He opened the box.
The ring was elegant.
Not enormous.
Not designed to advertise wealth.
A sapphire surrounded by small diamonds.
Emily stared.
“My mother's stone.”
Victor nodded.
“Isabella gave it to me.”
“She gave you Grandma Rose's sapphire?”
“After threatening me for an hour.”
“That sounds right.”
Victor did not kneel yet.
First, he looked at Emily.
“I need to ask differently this time.”
She waited.
“The first time, lawyers proposed terms.”
“Yes.”
“I offered money.”
“Yes.”
“I established rules.”
“A lot of rules.”
Victor nodded.
“I don't want any of that.”
He took her hand.
“Emily Carter, I don't need you to protect my reputation.”
Her eyes shone.
“I don't need you to sit at my table because a contract says you belong there.”
Victor's voice became rough.
“I don't need you to save me.”
Emily whispered, “Good.”
“Because you already did.”
Her breath caught.
Victor continued.
“You showed me that love isn't possession.”
He looked down at their hands.
“It isn't keeping someone because you're afraid they might leave.”
He looked back at her.
“It's becoming the kind of man they might choose to come home to.”
Emily began crying.
Victor immediately frowned.
“I remain uncomfortable with happy crying.”
She laughed through tears.
He knelt.
People at the far end of the courthouse hallway turned.
Victor did not care.
“Marry me again.”
Emily smiled.
“No contract?”
“No contract.”
“No expiration date?”
“Never.”
“No separate wings?”
“Absolutely not.”
She laughed.
Victor's voice softened.
“No pretending.”
Emily looked at him.
“That one I like.”
Victor held up the ring.
“Is that a yes?”
Emily pretended to consider.
Victor looked offended.
She laughed and dropped to her knees in front of him.
Then kissed him.
“Yes.”
The entire hallway applauded.
Victor hated public attention.
For once, he tolerated it.
They returned to the courtroom.
The judge looked at the ring.
“I assume the dissolution is withdrawn?”
Victor said, “Yes.”
Emily said, “Absolutely.”
The judge removed her glasses.
“I have handled murders with less drama than this marriage.”
Victor nodded.
“That seems fair.”
Outside, Isabella waited with Marco.
Emily stared.
“You knew?”
Isabella smiled.
“Of course.”
Victor looked betrayed.
“You told her?”
“I told everyone.”
Marco raised his phone.
“I have video.”
Victor pointed at him.
“Delete it.”
“No.”
Emily laughed.
Victor sighed.
Some battles could not be won.
Their second wedding was scheduled for spring.
Small, Emily insisted.
Victor agreed.
Then discovered Emily's definition of small still included one hundred and twenty people.
Victor's original guest list contained fourteen.
They compromised at eighty.
Saint Gabriel's chapel hosted the ceremony.
No politicians.
No crime families.
No photographers except one local woman Emily had known since childhood.
Children from the orphanage decorated the aisle.
Isabella cried openly and denied it afterward.
Marco stood beside Victor.
Sister Margaret officiated.
Emily walked down the aisle alone by choice.
Victor understood why.
She belonged to herself first.
Then she chose him.
When she reached the altar, Victor whispered, “You look beautiful.”
Emily smiled.
“So do you.”
Victor frowned.
“That isn't usually said to the groom.”
“I make my own rules now.”
“I've noticed.”
Their vows contained no promises of perfection.
Victor promised honesty.
Emily promised not to disappear unless absolutely necessary.
Victor objected to the qualification.
Everyone laughed.
When Sister Margaret pronounced them married, Victor kissed Emily slowly.
No cameras demanded it.
No contract required it.
This kiss belonged to them.
Afterward, Isabella handed Emily an envelope.
Inside was the original marriage contract.
Emily looked confused.
Isabella smiled.
“Burn it.”
Outside the chapel, Victor and Emily placed the contract inside a small metal bowl.
Victor lit the corner.
The pages curled.
Three years of rules turned into ash.
Emily watched the fire.
Victor took her hand.
“Regret anything?”
She considered.
“The first contract?”
“Any of it.”
Emily looked toward the chapel.
Toward Isabella laughing with children.
Toward Marco arguing with Sister Margaret.
Toward the life they had somehow built from lies, bullets, and impossible second chances.
“Yes.”
Victor's expression changed.
Emily leaned closer.
“I regret waiting three years to tell you you're insufferable.”
Victor smiled.
“I knew.”
May you like
She kissed him.
And for the first time, neither of them was pretending.
