Chapter 7 - BLOOD ON THE MARBLE
The morning sun rose over Chicago, painting the sky in brilliant shades of gold and pink, clearing away the dark storm clouds that had hung over the city for weeks.
By noon, the Rossi estate was completely quiet.
The Valenti syndicate had been dismantled in a single night. Mateo’s rogue faction was entirely erased. The other family heads across the Midwest had sent formal letters of submission to Vincent before dawn, recognizing him as the undisputed king of the Chicago underworld.
Inside the grand estate study, the heavy oak doors were closed.
Vincent sat behind his grand mahogany desk, wearing a clean charcoal suit. Across from him sat Nonna Maria, drinking her morning espresso from a fine porcelain cup.
I stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sun reflect off the green lawns outside, feeling a deep, unshakeable sense of peace settle over my bones for the first time since the diner shooting.
A soft knock came at the door. Marcus stepped inside, his arm wrapped in a neat sling.
"Boss," Marcus said, bowing his head respectfully. "The city is clear. The police chief has filed the dock incident as a rival gang dispute. No charges, no investigations. You are completely clean."
"Good," Vincent said smoothly. "Reassign half the perimeter guards to non-military duties. My wife doesn't need to live in an active war zone anymore."
Marcus smiled warmly at me. "Understood, Don Vincent. And... congratulations, Mrs. Rossi."
When Marcus left, Nonna Maria set her teacup down with a soft click. She looked at Vincent, then at me, her dark eyes shining with pure joy.
"You see, Vincent?" Nonna Maria said softly. "I told you God sent her to our diner for a reason."
Vincent stood up from his desk, walking slowly across the Persian rug until he stood right beside me. He didn't say anything at first. He just reached out, taking my hand in his, his fingers intertwining with mine.
"Mother," Vincent said, looking down at me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "Leave us for a moment."
Nonna Maria chuckled, leaning on her cane as she stood up. "Ah, to be young and in love amidst a mafia war. Don't keep her locked in this study all day, Vincent. We have a real wedding to plan."
She winked at me before quietly slipping out of the room, shutting the heavy doors behind her.
I turned to face Vincent, looking up into his piercing gray eyes. "A real wedding?"
"Our hospital wedding was a business contract to keep you alive," Vincent said softly, his voice rich and deep. "It was rushed. It was cold. It was surrounded by armed guards and blood."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box—different from the one he had given me before.
He dropped down onto one knee in front of me, right there on the warm, sunlit hardwood floor of his study.
The most feared man in Chicago, a man who ruled an empire worth billions, was kneeling at my feet with complete vulnerability in his eyes.
He opened the box. Inside sat a simple, breathtaking platinum band, engraved on the inside with six words: My Savior. My Queen. My Life.
"Clara," Vincent said, his voice trembling slightly. "I forced you into my world to save your life. But over the last two weeks, you saved my soul. You showed me what true loyalty looks like. You gave me a reason to fight for something more than power."
He looked up into my eyes, his gaze burning with an absolute, undeniable love.
"Will you marry me, Clara? For real this time. Not for protection. Not for the Rossi name. But because you love me as helplessly as I love you?"
Tears of pure, overwhelming joy spilled down my cheeks. I dropped to my knees in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling his face to mine.
May you like
"Yes," I sobbed happily, kissing his lips with everything I had. "Yes, Vincent! A thousand times yes!"
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight against his chest, lifting me as he stood up, laughing a rich, happy sound that filled the grand study with warmth.
