Chapter One Hundred Five: The Wedding

The chapel was small.

Stone walls. Wooden pews. Stained glass windows that caught the morning light and threw colors across the floor. It was old. Older than the city. Older than anyone remembered.

I stood at the back. The doors were closed. The guests were seated. Beatriz. Thomas. Felix. Sloane. Dana. Marcus. Leo. Sarah. Claire. A handful of others. People who had stood beside us. People who had earned their place.

Daniel stood beside me.

He was wearing a dark suit. His hair was combed. His hands were steady. He looked older than he had when he'd first walked into the penthouse. Calmer. Steadier. More like himself.

"You ready?" he asked.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Yes."

He nodded. He offered his arm. I took it.

The doors opened.

---

The music started.

Not a traditional march. Something softer. Quieter. A piano piece I didn't recognize. It filled the chapel. It filled the silence. It filled everything.

I walked down the aisle. I didn't look at the guests. I didn't look at the windows. I didn't look at anything but him.

Adrian stood at the altar. He was wearing a black suit. No tie. His hands were clasped in front of him. His eyes were fixed on me.

He didn't smile. He didn't need to. But something in his expression shifted as I walked toward him. Something warm. Something that had been there for months. Something that had been there since the beginning.

I reached the altar. Daniel stepped back. I stood across from Adrian.

The officiant spoke. I didn't hear the words. I just looked at him. At his face. At his eyes. At the man who had stood beside me through everything.

Then it was time.

"Elena," the officiant said. "Do you take this man to be your husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death parts you?"

I looked at Adrian. He looked at me.

"I do," I said.

"And Adrian. Do you take this woman to be your wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death parts you?"

He looked at me. He looked at me the way he had a hundred times before.

"I do," he said.

The officiant nodded. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Adrian stepped forward. He didn't kiss me. Not at first. He just looked at me. He reached for my hand. He took it. His fingers were warm. Steady.

"I love you," he said.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I love you too," I said.

He leaned down. He pressed his lips to my forehead. It wasn't a kiss. Not really. It was something else. Something that made my chest tighten.

Then he kissed me. Softly. Briefly. Enough.

The chapel erupted. Applause. Cheers. Laughter. I didn't hear any of it. I just looked at him. He just looked at me.

---

The reception was small.

Beatriz had arranged everything. A long table. Simple food. Wine. Music. The same chapel, transformed. Candles. Flowers. Light.

I sat beside Adrian. He didn't speak much. He didn't need to. He just held my hand under the table. His thumb traced circles on my palm. I didn't pull away.

Daniel gave a toast. He stood. He raised his glass. He looked at me. He looked at Adrian. He looked at everyone.

"I didn't know my sister until a few months ago," he said. "Not really. I knew her name. I knew she existed. But I didn't know her. I didn't know what she was capable of. I didn't know how strong she was. I didn't know how much she could love."

He paused. He looked at me.

"She saved my life. Not just once. Not just twice. Every day. She gave me a reason to stop running. She gave me a reason to stay. She gave me a family."

He raised his glass.

"To Elena. To Adrian. To the life they're going to build together."

Everyone drank. I didn't. I just looked at him. He looked at me.

After the toast, he walked to me. He didn't say anything. He just hugged me. I hugged him back.

"I'm glad you're my sister," he said.

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

---

That night, I found Adrian on the balcony.

Not the penthouse balcony. The chapel had a small terrace. Stone. Overlooking the garden. The stars were out. The air was cold.

He was standing at the railing. He didn't turn when I walked up.

"Mrs. Kane," he said.

I almost smiled. Almost.

"Mrs. Kane," I repeated.

He turned. He looked at me.

"I like the sound of that," he said.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I like the sound of it too," I said.

He reached for my hand. He took it. His fingers were warm. Steady.

We stood there. The stars shone. The garden was quiet. The city was far away.

"It's strange," I said.

"What?"

"Not having a target. Not having a plan. Not having something to fight."

He didn't respond. He just waited.

"I spent so long planning this. Dreaming about it. Living for it. And now it's done. And I have something new. Something I chose."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "That's what living is."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I'm learning," I said.

The stars shone above us. A breeze moved through the garden. A light flickered in the distance. I listened to the sounds of the night.

"Okay," I said.

He didn't reach for me. I didn't reach for him. We stood at the railing, two people who had spent years chasing the same ghost, and watched the sky breathe.

Tomorrow, the headlines would run. Tomorrow, the world would move on.

But tonight, the terrace was quiet, and the stars were clear, and for once, I didn't want to be anywhere else.