Chapter 8 - THE GARDEN OATHSThe ceremony was private, attended only by a select handful of elite power players, trusted loyalists, and the two little girls who had changed the course of history with a blinking green light.
In the center of the glass pavilion overlooking the coast, Dominic stood in a tailored black tuxedo, his expression calm, commanding, and unshakable.
The string quartet swelled as Claire walked down the aisle on the arm of her newly healed life. Every eye in the audience was fixed on her, but her gaze never wavered from Dominic’s dark, intense eyes.
When she reached the altar, Dominic took her hands in his. Her fingers were warm, steady, and completely unafraid.
"You walked into a war zone to protect your family," Dominic said softly, his voice meant only for her ears as the priest prepared to speak. "You risked everything to send me a message."
"And you caught it," Claire replied, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. "You always catch everything, Mr. Hale."
"Not everything," Dominic murmured, sliding a heavy, diamond-encrusted platinum band onto her finger. "I didn't realize how much I needed you until you proved you were the only person in this city strong enough to stand beside me in the dark."
The priest smiled, raising his hands. "Do you, Dominic Hale, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife—in strength and in shadow, through war and through peace?"
Dominic never broke eye contact with Claire.
"I do."
"And do you, Claire Whitmore, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—to share his throne, guard his secrets, and stand as his equal?"
Claire looked out across the gorgeous estate, then back into the eyes of the man who ruled the criminal underworld of the East Coast.
"I do," she said clearly.
May you like
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Dominic pulled Claire into his arms, pressing a deep, uncompromising kiss to her lips as applause erupted from the gathered guests.
