Chapter 10 - The True Beginning
The first snowfall of December fell softly over Bell Haven, turning the dark, jagged cliffs of the coastline into a blanket of glittering white.
Inside the grand ballroom of Duca House—fully repaired, modernized, and gleaming under the warm glow of restored crystal chandeliers—there were no assassins, no hidden guns, and no terrified socialites hiding beneath the tables.
Instead, the room was filled with the soft, elegant sound of a live string quartet playing a gentle waltz.
I stood near the edge of the polished oak dance floor, wearing a stunning midnight-blue gown that hugged my silhouette, the old burn scar on my shoulder hidden beneath delicate lace, but completely accepted as a part of who I was.
Roman walked toward me through the crowd, cutting a striking figure in his tailored black tuxedo. He held out his hand, his dark eyes warm and steady.
“Dance with me, Clara,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, low rumble that had first terrified and then captured my heart.
I placed my uninjured hand in his, letting him pull me out into the center of the floor. As we began to move in rhythm with the music, spinning past the massive stone fireplace where our story had truly begun, I realized something profound.
Our marriage hadn’t started with romance. It had started with debt, secrets, violence, and a hail of gunfire on a rainy wedding night. It had been built on lies, shattered by history, and forged in the fire of a blood feud.
And yet, as Roman pulled me a little closer, shielding me from the rest of the world just as he had promised on that chaotic night, I knew one thing for certain.
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The wedding night hadn't just changed everything.
It had given us a future.
