Chapter 4 - The White Chapel
The morning of the wedding broke with a stunning, washed-out blue sky, the storm having swept the atmosphere clean during the night. The air was sharp, smelling of wet earth and sea salt. The private chapel of the Russo estate, a beautiful limestone structure built in the late 19th century, was surrounded by hundreds of blooming white gardenias that had been protected from the rain by temporary canvas awnings.
By two o'clock in the afternoon, the driveway was lined with sleek, black luxury sedans. Men in tailored tuxedos and women in elegant silk gowns walked up the stone steps, greeted by security personnel who checked identities with polite but unyielding precision.
In the bride’s dressing room at the back of the chapel, Elena stood before the long mirror. The dress was magnificent, its long lace train pooling on the polished floorboards like sea foam. Lucia and Valentina stood on either side of her, holding her veil with absolute seriousness, while Mia sat on a small stool, her tiny patent leather shoes tapping against the wood.
"You look like an angel, Mom," Valentina whispered, her voice filled with an awe that only an eight-year-old could manage.
Elena’s throat tightened at the word. Mom. It was the first time Valentina had used it naturally, without hesitation. She leaned down, kissing the girl's cheek, ignoring the danger of smudging her makeup. "Thank you, sweetheart. You look beautiful too."
The door opened, and Nora Hayes, Elena's mother, stepped into the room. She was dressed in a soft lavender gown, her eyes already red from crying. She looked at her daughter, then at the three Russo girls who were currently clinging to Elena's skirts.
"I never thought... when we took the job here..." Nora started, her voice breaking as she walked over to wrap her arms around her daughter.
"I know, Mom," Elena whispered into her mother's hair. "But we're safe now. Dominic has made sure of it."
"He's a good man, Elena," Nora said, pulling back to wipe her eyes. "A dangerous man, but a good father. That’s what matters."
A sharp knock on the door signaled that it was time. Marcus stood in the hallway, his tuxedo fitting tightly over his broad shoulders. He gave Elena a reassuring nod. "The Boss is waiting at the altar, Miss Vasquez. The room is secure."
The traditional wedding march began to echo from the pipe organ inside the main sanctuary. Elena took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around her bouquet of white roses. She looked down at the three girls. "Ready?"
"Ready," Lucia said, taking Valentina's hand, while Mia grabbed Nora's fingers to walk ahead as the flower girls.
As the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary swung open, Elena stepped onto the white carpet. The room was packed with the most powerful figures of the eastern underworld, but she didn't see any of them. Her eyes locked instantly onto Dominic, who stood at the end of the aisle before the candle-lit altar.
He looked magnificent, his massive frame perfectly cutting the line of his black tuxedo, his gray eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made the rest of the room disappear. Beside him stood his brother, serving as best man, his face relaxed but alert.
Elena walked down the aisle, her heart beating in rhythm with the organ music. With every step, she felt the ghosts of the past fourteen months falling away. She was no longer the frightened girl trying to blend into the furniture; she was the woman walking toward her destiny.
She reached the altar, and Dominic stepped down to take her hand. His skin was warm, his grip firm and protective. He smiled, a rare, brilliant expression that transformed his rugged face.
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"You're beautiful," he murmured.
The priest stepped forward, raising his hands to begin the ceremony. But as he spoke the first words of the blessing, the heavy stained-glass window at the back of the choir loft shattered inward with a terrifying crash, showering the rear pews with fragments of colored glass.
