It was quiet, almost deceptively so. The kind of quiet that made people forget who exactly was about to be wed. No cathedral bells, no endless guest lists, no paparazzi flashes. Just a private ceremony, cloaked in secrecy and guarded by men who carried their guns like extensions of their own bones.
The venue was nothing more than a secluded villa in the heart of the city, an estate shielded by high stone walls and thick ivy, chosen not for its beauty but for its silence. Within those walls, white roses were arranged with soldierly precision, their petals almost trembling under the afternoon breeze.
And yet, despite the careful touches of romance scattered in the air, there was still a heaviness—because this was no ordinary love story.
The first thing people noticed when Dominic Moretti walked in wasn't his suit, though it was black and cut to perfection. It wasn't even the commanding aura he carried, the kind that made hardened men lower their eyes. It was the empty chair set at the front, dressed in white, a single framed photograph resting gently against it. Mark. His brother in arms. His fallen brother. Dominic had insisted the seat be placed there. Not as decoration. Not as a gesture. But as presence.
The men understood. Silence hung like a veil over them when they saw it.
Jay stood in the back with Tobias, both dressed sharp but wearing the same air of unease. They had faced bloodbaths, ambushes, betrayals but this, watching Dominic Moretti marry, watching Elena Romano become Elena Moretti, was something they hadn't prepared themselves for.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," Tobias muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the front.
"You're not," Jay replied, lips twitching in something that wasn't quite a smile. "The boss really went and did it."
The murmurs of their men were quiet, subdued, but laced with disbelief. They were here for him, for her. But still, it was difficult to reconcile the ruthless killers they followed with the two people about to stand under white roses and exchange promises like normal lovers.
And then she walked in.
Elena.
She walked in like a queen ,not like a predator but as a woman in love .A picture different from the crazy images she has painted over the last few months
Her dress wasn't flamboyant, but it was enough to make time stop for a moment. A simple white satin gown, the fabric hugging her in all the right places, flowing down with the grace of water. And yes her bump was visible now. Small, delicate, but undeniably there. A quiet announcement that life was blooming in the chaos of their empire.
The men noticed. Everyone noticed.
Jay whispered low to Tobias, "He's untouchable now. That" he nodded subtly toward Elena, "that's his new world."
Dominic's gaze found her instantly, and the world narrowed to just them. No empire. No enemies. No debts of blood. Just Elena, walking toward him, a small smile breaking through her usually sharp expression.
And though no one spoke of it, a shadow lingered just beyond the walls. Valerie.
She hadn't responded to the invitation Elena had sent, sealed with Elena's handwriting, signed as Elena Moretti in hope, not yet in fact. She hadn't sent word. She hadn't even acknowledged it. And yet, there she was, cloaked in her silence, watching from the edge of the villa's perimeter.
One of her men leaned closer, his voice low.
"You could've walked in, boss. She left the door open for you."
Valerie's jaw tightened. Her single eye lingered on the white roses, on Dominic's figure at the altar, on the small curve of Elena's stomach. She didn't move. She didn't speak. But her men saw it—the almost imperceptible softening in her face. The tension that wasn't quite bitterness. The flicker of something dangerously close to warmth.She would never admit it, but Elena's words in that letter had carved deeper than she thought possible. I want us to be a family for this child. For Dominic.
Now, she stood hidden in the shadows, watching the ceremony she swore she wouldn't care about. And yet, her heart wasn't made of steel that day.
Inside, Dominic reached for Elena's hand as she reached the front. No hesitation, no fear. His fingers locked around hers, like chains that neither of them wanted to break.
"Look at them," Tobias muttered to Jay again, shaking his head. "Tell me that's not insane. The Devil himself, in love."
Jay chuckled under his breath. "We're all insane, brother. Just not like them."
The ceremony hadn't even begun, but already the men knee this wouldn't be the kind of union people whispered about in romance. It would be the kind of union whispered about in fear.
Still, for them, for that moment, it was nothing but love.
The letter had arrived in a plain black envelope, sealed with Moretti's crest. But the handwriting wasn't Dominic's. It was Elena's. Sharp, deliberate strokes of ink that carried no apology, no begging ….only truth.
Valerie,
I will not pretend that you and I have ever been friends. I will not pretend that we ever will be. But this is bigger than grudges, bigger than the blood between us.
By the time you read this, you'll know what I've chosen. I am marrying Dominic. Not because I trapped him. Not because he was blind. But because he saw me every dark, broken part of me and never turned away.
I stalked him once, Valerie. I trailed his shadow, memorized his steps, carved his name into the corners of my mind until obsession drowned me. And he knew. He knew and still let me close. He let me burn for him until I was fire. He let me kill for him until the world feared my name. And now, I am his. Entirely.
I want you to know this: I am not asking you to forgive me. I am asking you to stand as family. For Dominic. For the child growing inside me. This empire is not built only on violence. It deserves to have roots in something more.
The choice is yours. The door will always be open to you. Whether you walk through it or not, know this ,I will protect Dominic until the end. He is my world, as much as he is yours.
Elena Moretti
Valerie had read it once, then again, then burned the edge of it with a lighter before slipping it into her pocket instead of ash. And now, watching from the shadows at the villa, those words returned to her like a wound reopening.
The officiant's voice faded into the background. What mattered wasn't tradition, wasn't ritual.it was Dominic's eyes locked onto Elena's, as if the rest of the world had already ceased to exist.
"Elena Romano," the officiant said, "do you wish to say your vows?"
Her fingers tightened around Dominic's hand. Her voice was steady, but it carried a weight only the two of them could understand.
"People think I was born this way. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. But I wasn't. I was soft once. Weak. The kind of girl the world chews up and spits out without a second thought. And then I saw you, Dominic. I followed you, chased you, until the obsession turned me inside out. You should have destroyed me. You should have cut me loose. But instead, you let me stay. You let me love you in the only way I knew how,violently.
And now, I stand here not as the girl I once was, not even as the woman people fear today. I stand here as yours. Only yours.
I vow to protect you with every breath in me. I vow to love you with a fury that doesn't dim. I vow to raise our child in a world where even devils can find their piece of heaven.
You are my empire, Dominic. And I will burn the world to keep it safe."
Silence. Pure silence. Even Tobias, who never shut his damn mouth, had nothing to say.
The officiant turned. "Dominic Moretti?"
Dominic's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile, but it was softer than anything his men had ever seen. His voice rolled through the hall like a storm, heavy, unrelenting, but carrying something they never thought he was capable of tenderness.
"They say monsters don't deserve love. That men like me, men who carve empires out of blood and ash, are meant to die alone. I believed it. I embraced it.
Until you.
You, Elena, were madness wrapped in beauty. You stalked me, clawed your way into my world, and instead of pushing you away, I let you in. Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't being hunted,I was being seen.
You became my ruin, and somehow, my salvation.
So here is my vow: I will never let you go. Not to war. Not to enemies. Not even to death itself. You are mine, Elena. And I am yours. Until the last bullet, until the last breath."
The room erupted in whispers. The men shifted in disbelief. Dominic Moretti, the Devil of New York just vowed eternal love in front of witnesses, and Elena Romano,the Siren of Blood looked like she could cry instead of kill.
And in the shadows, Valerie's hand clenched at her side, a tear threatened to fall .The letter burned fresh in her mind. She didn't move forward. She didn't leave. She just stayed, one eye fixed on them, caught between pride , fear and something dangerously close to acceptance.