Chapter 10 - The Queen of Chicago
One month later.
The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was bathed in the warm, majestic glow of thousands of white candles. The air was perfumed with white lilies and expensive champagne. But tonight, there were no sneering heiresses, no whispers of class division, and no cowards hiding behind bloodlines.
Tonight, Chicago bent the knee.
Over three hundred capos, union leaders, city officials, and underworld dons from five states filled the hall, dressed in formal black-tie attire.
At the end of the long red carpet stood a pair of carved mahogany thrones.
The heavy double doors swung open.
Luca Moretti walked into the room, tall, regal, and imposing in a midnight-blue bespoke tuxedo, the scars on his neck and shoulder worn like medals of honor. But he didn't walk as the boss.
He walked one half-step behind the woman at his side.
Sofia Castiglione Moretti was breathtaking. Her wedding gown was a masterpiece of black Italian silk and gold embroidery, trailing ten feet behind her. Around her neck gleamed the historic Castiglione emerald, and on her head sat a delicate, diamond-encrusted tiara that had once belonged to her grandmother.
She walked with the grace of a woman who had walked through the fire of humiliation and emerged as tempered steel.
As they reached the dais, Luca stopped, turned to the crowd, and raised his glass of champagne.
“Twenty-six years ago, a king was murdered,” Luca’s deep voice resonated through the grand hall, commanding absolute silence. “Today, his daughter takes her rightful throne. Anyone who serves her, serves me. Anyone who defies her... answers to my gun.”
Luca lowered his glass and turned to Sofia. In front of the entire underworld elite, the terrifying boss of Chicago dropped to one knee, bowed his head, and kissed the platinum signet ring on her finger.
“Long live the Queen,” Luca whispered.
A second of breathless silence hung over the room.
Then, three hundred hardened mobsters, killers, and power brokers dropped to their knees in unison, bowing their heads toward the throne.
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” their voices roared like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the city.
Sofia looked out over the empire that had once treated her as invisible. She felt Luca’s warm, powerful hand slip into hers, grounding her, loving her, ready to burn the world again if she so much as whispered the word.
May you like
She smiled, squeezed his hand, and for the first time in her life, she was no longer running.
She was home.
