fiction

Chapter 10 - The Reign of the King and Queen

One year later.

The estate on Cliffside Avenue was no longer a mausoleum of shadows and ghosts; it was a home filled with life, laughter, and light.

The grand ballroom on the ground floor, once a cold monument to empty social gatherings, was transformed into a breathtaking celebration. Strings of warm fairy lights crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling, and white roses adorned every table. Outside, the bay glistened under a blanket of stars, the lights of the city skyline twinkling like diamonds against the dark water.

It was their wedding night.

The guests weren't corrupt capos, terrified politicians, or fair-weather sycophants. They were loyal executives, trusted friends, doctors from the foundation, and Lily—who ran around the dance floor in a gorgeous flower-girl dress, laughing and stealing miniature cupcakes from the catering trays.

In the center of the ballroom, a circle of family and friends parted.

Vincent sat in a custom-built, polished chrome and white leather wheelchair, tailored with elegant silver embroidery that matched his bespoke tuxedo. His shoulders were broad, his posture commanding, and his dark eyes burned with a profound, unshakable peace. He had conquered his enemies, secured his empire, and built a legitimate foundation that saved hundreds of lives every single year.

And standing right beside him, dressed in a breathtaking, floor-length ivory silk gown that hugged her silhouette with effortless elegance, was Tessa.

The music swelled—a soft, romantic waltz that filled the grand room.

Vincent looked up at her, his heart hammering against his ribs just as fiercely as it had the first day she walked into his bedroom with a basin of warm water and a stack of clean towels.

"Are you ready for this, Mrs. Corvino?" Vincent asked softly, offering his hand.

Tessa smiled, her dark eyes shining with tears of absolute joy. She didn't hesitate. Instead of waiting for him to stand, she stepped directly into the circle of his arms, sitting gracefully onto his lap, wrapping her arms securely around his neck, and resting her head against his broad shoulder.

"I've been ready since day one," she whispered against his ear.

The guests around them broke into gentle applause and cheers as Vincent wrapped his strong arms around her waist, spinning his motorized wheelchair in a smooth, elegant circle across the polished wooden dance floor.

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He couldn't feel his legs. The medical diagnosis of paraplegia hadn't changed. But as he held the woman who had treated him like a king when the rest of the world had buried him alive, Vincent Corvino realized a profound truth:

You don't need to stand on your own two feet to rule the world—not when you have a queen standing right beside you, holding your heart in her hands.

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