Chapter 9 - The Trial of Love
The fallout from the battle of Pier 42 was instantaneous and absolute. By morning, news swept through the underground that Marco Valenti was dead, the Valenti syndicate was disbanded, and Julianna Valenti had fled the country to hide in South America, penniless and disgraced.
The Commission called an emergency tribunal of all five major families at a private estate in Long Island. They demanded Gabriel answer for launching an unsanctioned war that had brought police helicopters and federal attention to the docks.
The high council chamber was filled with older, cynical mafia bosses sitting behind a curved mahogany bench.
Gabriel stood in the center of the room. His right arm was held in a pristine white sling beneath his suit jacket, his face pale from blood loss, but his posture was as unyielding as a mountain.
Beside him, standing proudly in a simple, elegant dark blue dress, was Emma.
"Gabriel Moretti," the senior elder, Don Carmine, declared, his voice raspy with age. "You destroyed a founding family. You brought chaos to the streets. And according to our reports, you did it all for a former maid. A commoner with no syndicate ties, no political bloodline, and no place in our society."
Carmine looked at Emma with cold disdain. "You risk our entire structure for a woman who brings nothing to your house?"
Gabriel stepped forward, placing his good hand gently on the small of Emma’s back. His voice echoed through the vast marble hall with absolute, terrifying authority.
"She brought my daughter back to life," Gabriel stated, his dark eyes sweeping over the elders. "When your high-priced specialists told me Lily would never walk, Emma gave her strength. When my house was cold, she gave it warmth. She stood between my children and danger without a single thought for her own safety."
Gabriel reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a heavy velvet box. He opened it, revealing a magnificent ring—a radiant-cut ten-carat canary diamond framed by intricate platinum scrollwork.
He did not offer it to the council. He turned to Emma, dropping to one knee right there in the center of the mafia tribunal.
The room gasped. A don never kneeled. Not before the council, not before rival bosses, not before anyone.
"Emma Brooks," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into an intimate, breathtaking softness that made her tears spill over her eyelashes. "You saved my child. You saved my soul. I don't care about bloodlines, I don't care about syndicate rules, and I don't care about the opinions of old men who know nothing of love. Will you make me the luckiest man alive and become my wife?"
Emma covered her mouth with her hands, her chest heaving with joy. She looked at the man who had seen her worth when the rest of the world ignored her, the man who had bled for her, the man who loved every single inch of her body and soul.
"Yes," Emma sobbed softly, holding out her hand. "Yes, Gabriel! A thousand times yes!"
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Gabriel slipped the ring onto her finger, stood up, and pulled her into a passionate, deep kiss right in front of the silent, stunned tribunal.
Don Carmine stared at them for a long moment, then slowly let out a tired, defeated sigh. He knocked his wooden gavel against the desk. "The Moretti family leadership remains absolute. The tribunal is adjourned."
