Chapter 7 - The Queen of BostonI froze, my breath catching in my throat as Gabriel dropped down onto one knee on the polished hardwood floor of his office—the very same floor where he had dropped his cigarette two weeks ago when he first saw me in the emerald dress.
He opened the box.
Inside sat a breathtaking, flawless six-carat emerald-cut diamond ring, sparkling brilliantly under the warm office lights.
"For three years, I was foolish enough to think that keeping you as my secretary was keeping you safe," Gabriel said, his deep voice thick with emotion, his dark eyes locked onto mine. "I was wrong. Safety isn't living in the dark, Chastity. Safety is fighting for the person who owns your heart."
Tears blurred my vision as I listened to his words.
"You organized my business, you saved my life, and you brought light into a dark, cold world that I thought was irredeemable," Gabriel continued, his voice trembling slightly. "I don't just want you as my partner in this empire, Chastity. I want you as my wife. I want to spend every sunrise and sunset loving you, protecting you, and worshipping you."
He swallowed hard, looking up at me with an unspoken vulnerability. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes!" I cried out, tears spilling over my eyelashes as I nodded frantically. "Yes, Gabriel! A thousand times yes!"
Gabriel smiled radiantly, sliding the magnificent ring onto my finger before standing up and pulling me into his arms. He lifted me off my feet, spinning me around in the middle of his grand office as I laughed with pure, unrestrained joy.
He set me down gently and kissed me deeply, claiming my lips with an everlasting promise of love, loyalty, and protection.
Six months later.
The Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston was filled to capacity.
Every powerful figure in the city—from top politicians and judges to the most formidable allied bosses—sat in the pews, dressed in immaculate formal attire. High above, sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, illuminating thousands of white roses lining the marble aisle.
The heavy organ music swelled through the cathedral.
I walked down the aisle toward the altar, draped in a magnificent, custom lace wedding gown with a long, trailing veil. My father had passed years ago, so I walked down the aisle alone—strong, confident, and proud.
Standing at the altar waiting for me was Gabriel.
He looked devastatingly handsome in a black velvet tuxedo. But as I approached him, I saw tears glistening in the corners of his dark eyes. The feared mafia kingpin of Boston was looking at me as if I were the only holy thing in a chaotic world.
When I reached the altar, Gabriel stepped forward and took my hands in his. His touch was warm, steady, and filled with infinite devotion.
"You look breathtaking, my love," Gabriel whispered softly.
"You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Mercer," I whispered back with a radiant smile.
The cardinal read our vows, but we barely heard the Latin prayers. Our eyes were locked in an unspoken conversation of shared memories, bloody battles fought side by side, and a future built on unbreakable loyalty.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the cardinal declared. "You may kiss the bride."
Gabriel didn't hesitate for a single second.
He pulled me into his arms, dipping me back slightly as he pressed his lips to mine in a fiery, passionate kiss that brought the entire cathedral to its feet in thunderous applause.
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As we walked out of the cathedral hand in hand, stepping into the warm Boston sunshine surrounded by cheers, camera flashes, and our loyal family, I looked up at my husband.
I was no longer the quiet secretary hiding behind beige coats. I was Chastity Mercer—the queen of Boston, fiercely loved, utterly protected, and forever bound to the man who had given up everything to claim my heart.
