Chapter 8 - A New Dynasty
Three months later, the chapel smelled of fresh lilies and expensive perfume once again—but this time, there was no fear, no hidden contracts, and no silent groom trapped in a wheelchair.
I stood at the altar wearing a custom-tailored white silk gown that fit like a dream, the morning sunlight pouring through the stained-glass windows and painting the marble floor in vibrant shades of gold and ruby.
Beside me stood Ethan, tall, vibrant, and fiercely alive, his dark hair neatly combed and his arm wrapped securely around my waist.
The back rows of the chapel were filled with our newly restructured board of directors, loyal allies, and—true to his word—every single overdue debt, loan, and collection notice my father had accumulated had been wiped clean from existence, leaving him far away in a quiet coastal town where he couldn't cause any more damage.
When the minister smiled and asked for our vows, Ethan didn't hesitate.
"I do," he said, his voice ringing clear and strong through the vaulted ceiling, carrying a promise that echoed far beyond the walls of the church.
When it was my turn, I looked up into his piercing, brilliant eyes, remembering the cold, terrifying night he first opened them in the dark.
"I do," I smiled.
And as the minister pronounced us husband and wife, Ethan pulled me close, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that made the entire congregation applaud.
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The Thornton empire was ours now—rebuilt from the ashes, guarded by fire, and shared by two people who knew how to survive the dark. As we walked back down the aisle amid a shower of white rose petals, I knew one thing for certain:
Nobody would ever underestimate a Carter again.
