Chapter 7 - The Queen of Chicago
Six months later.
The Cathedral of the Holy Name in downtown Chicago was lined with thousands of white orchids and gold ribbon.
Outside, the streets were blocked off by police escorts and private security teams. The press, city officials, business titans, and thousands of ordinary Chicago residents crowded the sidewalk, eager to catch a glimpse of the wedding of the decade.
Inside the cathedral, the organ swelled with a magnificent, triumphant hymn.
Danny Carter—standing tall on his own two feet, holding a carved wooden cane with absolute pride—walked down the center aisle, wearing a tailored navy tuxedo. Beside him walked his sister.
Lena was a vision of breathtaking beauty.
Her wedding gown was a custom silk creation designed in Paris, adorned with subtle crystal embroidery that shimmered like stars under the stained-glass windows. Her dark hair was styled in an intricate crown, held by a diamond tiara that had belonged to the DeLuca matriarchs for three generations.
She didn't look like the quiet caregiver in a faded tunic anymore. She looked radiant, powerful, and undeniably royal.
At the altar, Marco DeLuca stood waiting.
He wore a dark velvet tuxedo, his gray eyes shining with an overwhelming love that brought tears to the eyes of every hardened lieutenant standing in the front rows. Next to him, Isabella sat in a velvet chair, smiling radiantly, clutching a gold rosary.
When Danny placed Lena’s hand into Marco’s large palm, Marco leaned down and whispered to the young man, “Thank you, brother.”
Danny grinned, squeezing Marco’s hand. “Take care of her, boss.”
“With my life,” Marco promised.
The Cardinal led them through the holy vows. When it came time for the rings, Marco took the heavy gold band and slid it onto Lena’s finger.
He looked into her eyes, his voice echoing clearly through the grand cathedral.
“I once called you a nobody,” Marco declared before God, his family, and the entire city. “Today, I give you my name, my empire, and my soul. You are my queen, Lena. Now and for eternity.”
Lena smiled, her eyes brimming with tears of joy as she slid her ring onto his finger. “And you are my heart, Marco. Always.”
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“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Cardinal proclaimed. “You may kiss the bride.”
Marco pulled Lena into his arms and kissed her with a fierce, possessive passion that made the entire congregation break into thunderous, standing applause.
