Chapter 10 - The Queen of Belladonna
Six months later.
The summer sun shone brightly over the blooming gardens of Belladonna House. The dark, gloomy estate that had once been a symbol of fear was now filled with vibrant white roses, beautiful string music, and hundreds of smiling guests.
There were no corrupt politicians today. No mafia threats. No hidden agendas. Only true friends, honest business partners, and people who genuinely loved us.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bride's suite, looking at my reflection.
I wore a custom lace wedding gown with a sweeping cathedral train that hugged every single voluptuous curve of my body. My hair was styled in an elegant updraft, adorned with white pearls. And around my neck, resting proudly against my chest, was my mother’s silver locket, glowing warmly under the summer sun.
A soft knock came at the door.
The door opened, and Vincent walked in. He looked impossibly handsome in a crisp white tuxedo jacket and black trousers. When he saw me, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes misting over with emotion.
"You're not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony," I teased gently, stepping toward him with a smile.
"I couldn't wait another second," Vincent whispered, walking up to me and taking both of my hands in his. "You take my breath away, Clara Moretti."
"I'm not a Moretti yet," I reminded him with a wink. "We still have to walk down that aisle."
Vincent smiled—a warm, breathtaking smile that filled my heart with pure joy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
"I have a wedding gift for you," he said softly.
He opened the box. Inside was a beautiful, custom-engraved gold bracelet. Engraved on the inside were the words: To my Queen, my savior, my forever.
"When my mother gave your mother that silver locket twenty-five years ago," Vincent murmured, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist, "she thought she was paying off a debt. But now I realize... she was leading me to the love of my life."
Tears of absolute happiness welled up in my eyes. I reached up, cupping his jaw, pulling his face down to mine for a soft, loving kiss.
"I love you, Vincent," I whispered against his lips.
"I love you, my Queen," he replied, his voice filled with endless devotion.
May you like
Hand in hand, Vincent and I walked out of the suite, stepping out into the bright summer sunlight toward the garden altar where our future awaited.
The maid who was once forced to her knees had found her crown—not by bowing to power, but by standing tall, loving fiercely, and reigning beside the king who gave her his heart.
