Chapter 2 - The Eight Minutes

One year later.

The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was a sea of glittering diamonds, tailored tuxedos, and flowing silk. It was the annual charity gala for the children’s hospital, a high-society event attended by politicians, celebrities, and the most powerful business figures in New York.

And ruling over all of them, from the head table at the center of the room, was the Moretti family.

I stood near the balcony, holding a crystal flute of champagne in my right hand. I wore a backless, floor-length emerald green gown that caught the light with every step. My hair was swept up in an elegant style, and around my neck rested a diamond necklace worth more than the apartment building I used to live in.

I took a sip of champagne, looking down at my left arm. The cast had been removed ten months ago. The bone had healed perfectly. The only reminder of my past was a faint, thin white scar near my wrist. I didn't hide it with makeup. I wore it proudly. It was the mark of the night I died as a victim and was reborn as a queen.

"You look breathtaking, Mrs. Moretti."

I turned, a genuine smile lighting up my face. Vincent stood behind me, looking devastatingly handsome in a classic black tuxedo. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and the ruthless edge in his eyes had been replaced by a deep, unwavering warmth—at least, whenever he looked at me.

"And you look very handsome yourself, Mr. Moretti," I replied, stepping into his arms.

We had been married for six months. The wedding had been an extravagant, private affair at the estate, attended only by his most trusted men and the new family I had built. I wasn't just his wife; I was his partner. The men who used to terrify me now bowed their heads when I walked into a room. Dante was my personal head of security, and the criminal empire Vincent ran had shifted entirely under my influence. We had divested from the violent, unstable businesses of the past, moving into legitimate real estate and massive charitable foundations.

Vincent was still the most feared man in New York, but now, he was also the most respected.

"Having fun?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against his side.

"I am," I admitted, looking out over the ballroom. "Though I think the Mayor is still a little terrified of you. He spilled his drink when you shook his hand."

Vincent chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that I loved. "He should be terrified. He tried to overcharge us on the permits for the new orphanage. I just gently reminded him of his civic duty."

I laughed, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I have a surprise for you," Vincent murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. He reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a small, heavy black envelope.

I opened it carefully. Inside was a set of architectural blueprints and a golden key.

"What is this?" I asked, looking up at him in confusion.

"It's the deed to the property where that diner used to be," Vincent said softly. "I bought the entire block. We're tearing it down next week. I'm building a massive women's shelter and legal defense center there, in your name. Fully funded, fully staffed. So that no woman in this city ever has to hide in a bathroom and pray for a miracle again. They’ll have you."

Tears pricked my eyes, but they were tears of overwhelming joy. I looked at the blueprints, then up at the man who had walked into the darkest moment of my life and dragged me into the light.

"Vincent..." I breathed, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you. It's perfect."

"You're perfect," he corrected, his voice filled with an adoration that still took my breath away.

He leaned down and kissed me, right there in the middle of the ballroom, in front of the entire city. Cameras flashed. People whispered. But I didn't care. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of his love wash over me.