The bells of Milan's grandest Catholic church tolled in a resonant chorus, echoing across the cobbled streets and announcing a union that would be remembered in whispers and awe for decades. Sunlight streamed through the towering stained-glass windows, illuminating every gilded frame, polished marble column, and intricate fresco that adorned the vaulted ceilings. The scent of incense mingled with fresh white roses and lilies, their petals glistening under the golden light, and the quiet hum of anticipation filled the vast space.Adeline's hands trembled as she adjusted the delicate lace on her gown. Pure white silk cascaded from her shoulders to the floor, hugging her figure in elegant waves, while a cathedral-length veil flowed behind her like a stream of moonlight. The bodice, embroidered with tiny crystals, sparkled subtly with each shift of her breath, catching the sunlight in fleeting glimmers. Her chest rose and fell, each heartbeat loud in her ears, as she tried to steady herself.This was not a quiet ceremony. This was a declaration—powerful, opulent, and unyielding. The wealth surrounding her was palpable: crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, reflecting hundreds of tiny flames; golden candlesticks lined the altar; and long mahogany pews were polished to perfection, holding guests whose presence spoke of influence, power, and authority. Members of the Italian mafia family stood along the walls in tailored suits, silent but watchful, their eyes sharp, calculating, respectful—or perhaps envious. Rory, dressed in emerald silk that shimmered like liquid, stood beside Adeline's parents, their faces a mixture of awe, pride, and relief.And then there was Donovan.He stood at the altar, impossibly tall, impossibly commanding, clad in a jet-black tuxedo with a blood-red silk tie, his posture flawless, his presence electric. Even surrounded by his family, his closest men, and the most dangerous figures in Italy, he was a singular force. His dark eyes swept the church, but they landed and lingered only on Adeline, and the air between them seemed to thrum with a heat that no luxury or grandeur could contain.The organ swelled, and the first notes of the hymn resonated through the cathedral. Adeline took a deep breath and stepped forward. Each footfall was precise, elegant, and deliberate. The crystals on her gown caught the sunlight, scattering light across the polished marble floor. She felt every eye in the church, every silent appraisal, every whisper, yet she focused solely on Donovan, whose expression was unreadable but charged with possession and desire.As she neared the altar, the weight of the past—the missions, the danger, the betrayals, the fires they had survived together—pressed against her chest. And yet, with each step, she felt the certainty of her choice, the fierce pride of belonging to a man who was both her protector and her tormentor. Donovan extended his hand, and when their fingers met, it was electric. The contrast of his firm, commanding touch with the softness of the silk glove covering his hand sent a shiver down her spine.Their vows were exchanged in voices that filled the cathedral. Donovan's words were firm, authoritative, yet laced with a rare vulnerability reserved only for her:"I claim you, Adeline," he said, his voice reverberating with both power and devotion, "not for peace, not for comfort, not for safety, but for every storm, every shadow, every flame that life and this world throw at us. You are mine—fully, entirely—and I am yours. Forever."Adeline's lips trembled, tears glinting in her eyes. She squeezed his hand, her voice clear, strong, and unwavering:"And I am yours, Donovan. In all things, in every danger, every passion, every heartbeat. I choose you—forever."The priest pronounced them husband and wife, and Donovan pulled her into a kiss that was both fierce and tender, a clash of fire and desire that left the congregation breathless. The church erupted into applause, the sound of celebration mingling with the low hum of crystal chandeliers, the polished marble reflecting the grandeur, and the sense that this union was not just a marriage—it was a claim, a legacy, and a bond forged in fire.The reception that followed was a spectacle worthy of their world. The grand hall glittered with gold and crystal. Tables of polished mahogany stretched endlessly, adorned with candelabras dripping with crystals, silver platters of delicacies, and overflowing floral arrangements in pure white and soft pastels. Musicians played live, string quartets and pianos blending into a harmonious backdrop as laughter, clinking glasses, and hushed conversations filled the room.Rory stayed close, ensuring that Adeline felt surrounded by love and safety, while her parents moved from table to table, greeting influential guests with polite bows and anxious pride. Donovan never left her side, guiding her through every dance, every toast, every whispered word with an intimacy that was at once possessive and tender. His hands lingered on her waist, fingers brushing the small of her back, and she leaned into him with full trust, her pulse echoing the rhythm of his.In between laughter and music, Donovan leaned close to her ear, his voice low and commanding:"You are mine, Adel. Only mine. No one else, ever."She smiled, her fingers entwined with his. "And I am yours, Donovan. Always."As night descended, the city of Milan twinkled beneath them. Standing on the balcony of their estate, overlooking the sea of lights and the distant shimmer of the cathedral where they had married, Donovan pulled her close. Their lips met in a kiss that was deep, searing, and final—an assertion that the life they had chosen together, full of danger, passion, and power, was theirs entirely. In his arms, Adeline felt the culmination of every storm, every mission, every shadow she had survived.Tonight, there was no fear. No chaos. Only them. The Devil and his claim.THE AFTERMATH The Devil's Claim — ClosingAdeline stood at the balcony of their estate, the night air brushing her face, the city lights of Milan stretching like a sea of gold beneath them. Donovan's hand rested possessively on her waist, his presence a constant, unyielding force she had long since learned to trust and love. The chaos of their past—the missions, betrayals, danger—had been transformed into something unbreakable: a life together, forged in fire, shadow, and desire.Rory, smiling with pride and relief, had returned to her life fully, understanding the choices Adeline had made and the heart she had followed. Adeline's parents, though still anxious about their daughter's world, had finally accepted the reality: that Adeline was safe, powerful, and loved by the man who ruled the Italian mafia with
