Chapter 7 - The Crown of the CityThree months later, the spring flowers were blooming across Rittenhouse Square, painting the historic park in vibrant shades of pink and white.
The black iron gates of the Battalia estate on the Schuylkill River stood wide open.
Inside the sunlit glass conservatory, surrounded by hundreds of cascading white orchids and ivy, the small, intimate wedding ceremony was coming to its conclusion. There were no politicians, no corrupt judges, and no high-society socialites demanding photo-ops. There was only Vince, a handful of loyal associates, and the quiet, peaceful hum of the river flowing just beyond the glass walls.
I stood before Carter wearing a simple, elegant gown of white lace, my hand resting comfortably in his.
"Do you, Diana Sterling, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?" the officiant asked softly.
I looked up into Carter’s dark, unwavering eyes—the eyes that had looked past the glamour, past the shadows, and seen a woman worth burning an empire down for.
"I do," I said, my voice steady, clear, and filled with absolute certainty.
"And do you, Carter Battalia, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?"
"Always," Carter answered, his gaze never leaving mine as he slid a heavy, platinum band encrusted with rare black diamonds onto my finger.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
When Carter pulled me against him, sealing our vows with a deep, passionate kiss, I knew the truth that had terrified me when I first walked into the Belmont Hotel ballroom months ago:
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I wasn't the quiet younger sister hiding in the background anymore.
I was the queen of Philadelphia, and the king kneeling at my side would never let me go.
