Chapter 8 - The Grand Reopening
One year later.
The grand opening of the Bennett-Vale Architectural Headquarters in SoHo was the event of the season.
The converted warehouse had been transformed into a breathtaking glass-and-steel masterpiece, symbolizing resilience, beauty, and strength. High-society figures, international press, and industry leaders filled the central atrium, sipping champagne beneath sparkling crystal chandeliers.
I stood on the mezzanine level in an elegant midnight-blue gown, looking down at the thriving crowd.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, warm lips pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck.
"You created something magnificent, Mrs. Vale," Dominic murmured into my ear.
I leaned back against his chest, placing my hand over his. He no longer used a cane. He walked with a slight, almost imperceptible cadence, standing tall and imposing at six-foot-two.
"We created this," I corrected, turning in his arms to smile up at him. "How is the new security firm doing?"
"Gabriel has everything under control," Dominic chuckled. "The legitimate security and logistics empire is expanding to Europe next month. But I told him I'm taking a leave of absence."
I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh? And why is the great Dominic Vale taking a leave of absence?"
Dominic gently placed his large, warm hand over my stomach, where a subtle, beautiful curve was beginning to show beneath the silk of my dress.
His eyes were filled with an endless warmth as he looked down at me.
"Because," Dominic whispered, his voice trembling with pure happiness, "I have to prepare for my most important role yet. Being a father."
Tears of absolute fulfillment filled my eyes as I rested my hand over his.
Two years ago, I thought my life was over in a rain-soaked ruined office. I thought I had married a cold mafia boss bound to a wheelchair.
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Instead, I had found my protector, my equal, my soulmate.
Dominic leaned down, sealing our love with a kiss as the applause of three hundred guests echoed through the grand atrium below—not in mockery, but in celebration of the man who stood tall, and the woman who loved him.
