Chapter 7 - Epilogue — Reigning from the TopOne year after the night at the Halston Hotel, the grand anniversary gala of Moretti Holdings was hosted not at a rented hotel ballroom, but at the newly acquired Moretti-Hart Center—a towering architectural masterpiece on the Chicago riverfront that served as the crown jewel of our unified empire.
The ballroom was magnificent, overflowing with white roses and glittering chandeliers, but this time, every single person in the room understood exactly who held the real power.
I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase wearing a breathtaking, custom-designed crimson gown that commanded the attention of every eye in the room. On my left ring finger rested a magnificent, flawless vintage diamond ring—not the one Julian had so carelessly handed away, but a rare heirloom of the Moretti dynasty that Nikolai had placed on my hand during our quiet, private wedding ceremony six months prior.
Nikolai walked up the stairs beside me, offering his arm, his dark suit immaculate as always.
As we descended into the ballroom, the crowd erupted into respectful, thunderous applause.
Across the room near the refreshment tables, catching my eye for a brief, fleeting second, stood Julian. He had managed to secure a low-level advisory job at a struggling logistics firm through distant acquaintances, looking older, tired, and thoroughly defeated in an ill-fitting rental tuxedo.
When our eyes met across the glittering room, Julian instinctively lowered his gaze, turning his back and disappearing into the crowd like a ghost fading into the shadows.
I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel triumph. I felt nothing at all for him—because ghosts had no power over queens.
Nikolai squeezed my arm gently as we reached the center of the floor, pulling me close for the first dance while the orchestra swelled around us.
“Penny sent her regards from Paris,” Nikolai murmured near my ear, a faint smile playing on his lips. “She said your mother sent three text messages this morning begging for an invitation.”
I laughed softly, resting my head against his shoulder as we glided effortlessly across the marble floor.
“And what did you tell her to reply?”
“I told Penny to send your mother a postcard,” Nikolai replied smoothly, “with a picture of the view from the top.”
I looked out across the packed ballroom filled with the most powerful people in the city—all of them smiling, all of them watching, all of them knowing that the era of fragile alliances and disposable women was over.
May you like
The Hart family had tried to trade me away.
Instead, I had taken the entire city.
