Chapter 9 - The Wedding at the Estate
Six months later, Callaway’s was closed for a private event—the only closure in its history that wasn't mandated by the health department or the police. But tonight, the restaurant wasn’t hosting judges or politicians. It was hosting a wedding.
The ceremony took place at Reed’s sprawling private estate on the outskirts of Lake Geneva, surrounded by sprawling gardens, white roses, and twinkling fairy lights draped through the ancient oak trees.
I stood before the altar in a breathtaking, custom-designed ivory gown, holding a small bouquet of white lilies. Down the aisle, walking with steady, clumsy steps in a miniature pink bridesmaid dress, was two-year-old Ava, giggling as Tommy Ritchie proudly guided her forward, scattering rose petals along the stone pathway.
Guests filled the white garden chairs—loyal members of Reed’s inner circle, trusted business associates, and Mrs. Perez from my old apartment building, who beamed with tears of joy streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.
When Reed stood at the altar waiting for me, dressed in a sharp tuxedo with his silver signet ring catching the afternoon sun, his grey eyes shone with a fierce, unwavering devotion that proved every risk I had ever taken was worth it.
As I reached the altar, Reed took my hands in his, his fingers warm and strong.
“Do you, Reed Callaway, take Elena to be your lawfully wedded wife, to protect her, cherish her, and stand by her through all things?” the officiant asked.
“I do,” Reed said instantly, his voice ringing clear and steady across the garden.
“And do you, Elena, take Reed to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
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“I do,” I smiled, looking deep into the eyes of the man who had pulled me out of the freezing snow and given me a kingdom.
When the rings were exchanged and the officiant pronounced us husband and wife, Reed pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss as applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, while little Ava clapped her hands in delight at our feet.
