Chapter 8 - The Wedding Planner
Six months later.
The weather in Chicago had finally turned warm, the bitter winds off the lake replaced by a soft, golden summer breeze.
Vincent Romano stood on the balcony of his penthouse, buttoning the cuffs of a crisp white shirt. He looked down at the streets below. He didn’t feel the heavy, suffocating weight of the empire anymore. He still ran the city, but the shadows felt different. Cleaner.
His phone buzzed on the patio table.
He picked it up.
INMATE CALL: FEDERAL CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTION, ALDERSON. PRESS 1 TO ACCEPT.
Vincent hit accept.
“Hello, Evelyn,” Vincent said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
Static crackled on the line. Then, Evelyn’s voice came through. It was raspy, stripped of its polished venom.
“You took everything from me,” Evelyn whispered.
“You gave it to me, Evelyn,” Vincent corrected. “I just didn’t give it back.”
“They’re moving me to maximum security next week,” she said, her breath hitching. “My father won’t speak to me. The lawyers abandoned me. Please, Vincent. You still have pull. Make a call. Get me a transfer to a minimum-security wing.”
Vincent looked out at the horizon. “Why would I do that?”
“Because we loved each other!” she pleaded, the desperation finally bleeding through. “We were supposed to get married today, Vincent! Today was our date!”
Vincent looked down at his left hand.
“We were never going to get married, Evelyn,” Vincent said softly. “You were just playing a game. And you lost.”
He hung up the phone and dropped it into the trash can.
He walked back into the penthouse. The living room was filled with sunlight.
Harper was standing by the kitchen island, wearing a simple, elegant white sundress. Her hair fell softly over her shoulders, and she was laughing as Leo tried to fix a crooked bowtie in the hallway mirror.
She looked up as Vincent walked in. Her smile lit up the entire room.
“You ready?” she asked.
“I’ve been ready since the night you slipped that key into my pocket,” Vincent said.
He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest, the silver pocket watch gleaming on a delicate chain around her neck. She had taken her mother’s painful memory and turned it into a symbol of her own strength.
“The shop is closed for the weekend,” Harper murmured, looking up at him. “The orchids arrived safely this morning. And Leo says the cars are waiting downstairs.”
“Good,” Vincent said, kissing the top of her head.
They weren’t getting married today. That would come later. Today was something much more important.
Today, they were leaving the city.
May you like
Vincent took Harper’s hand, and together they walked out the door. The empire would wait. The shadows would wait.
For the first time in his life, Vincent Romano wasn’t looking over his shoulder. He was only looking forward.
