280 - Leon Carter

280 - Leon Carter
Leon Carter

It felt strange and, at the same time, right to experience such peace after so much chaos. As if my body still expected to hear a gunshot at any moment or see blood staining the sand. But on that day, everything was calm.

The sun continued its slow dance across the sky, casting golden rays through the tall palm leaves. The breeze carried the scent of the sea mixed with the light fragrance of the flowers my mother and Amélie had so carefully chosen. A symbolic setting, after the war, love.

Riccardo was in prison. Frost and Bear had confirmed it. They were alive and whole, with a few scratches, bruises, and that thirst for justice fulfilled, as shown in the short messages I received. I took a deep breath when I read the last one.

"Game over. It’s your move now."

I smiled. For the first time in a long while, I smiled lightly.

My father was sitting beside me on the porch of the chalet reserved for my parents. He had a bottle of whiskey between us. He was slowly turning his glass between his fingers, as if still processing everything.

"Now what, son? What are you going to do with him?" he asked, looking at the sea, but clearly lost in thought.

The question hit me with the weight of responsibility. And for the first time, I didn’t have an immediate answer.

"I don’t know yet. Part of me wants blood," I confessed. "He tried to destroy everything I built. He hurt my people. He nearly got to her. And for that, I want to see him suffer. But part of me also..." I paused, "Part of me sees an opportunity."

"What kind?" he raised an eyebrow, curious.

"To use Riccardo to end this war once and for all. Maybe, if I keep him alive, if I let him keep breathing, he can become a bargaining chip. He might give me Arnold. Or he might help me keep the underworld united, through fear. And fear, Dad, is still a powerful weapon."

I saw him nod, like someone listening and analyzing carefully, someone who had once stood where I am now.

"You’re already thinking like the new leader of the First," he said with a subtle smile. "Your name holds more weight now than mine did at your age. But you’ll have to choose what kind of leader you want to be."

"I’m not ready for that role yet," I replied sincerely.

"But you're already sitting in it," he responded calmly.

I fell silent. Maybe he was right, as he always seemed to be.

Gavin showed up a little later, walking heavily like someone who hadn’t slept well in days. But his eyes looked lighter. He walked over and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"So, today’s the day. The official, the sacred, the symbolic wedding," he said with a half-smile. "I’m impressed you let my godmother and your mother-in-law plan everything. I thought you’d lose it."

"I almost did, but today is just for the family," I confessed, laughing. "But Ella, she deserves this and so much more."

"You did the right thing," Gavin looked at me with respect. "And congratulations on Riccardo. And for finally having your wedding."

"Thanks, cousin." I stood up and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. "I hope yours comes right after…"

My best man, Petter, appeared soon after, pulling me into a tight hug and murmuring something like "Life is made of moments like these, kid. Savor every second."

And I will.

The day passed in slow motion. The sky began to turn shades of orange, and the lanterns lit around the improvised altar on the beach swayed in the gentle breeze. Everyone was already in place.

My whole family was there, smiling in my direction. They had all come to this island to celebrate with me. I could see each member of my large family, my uncles, my cousins, and above all, I smiled when I saw my grandparents there.

All smiling, celebrating my moment of happiness. Even though many of them didn’t yet know about Riccardo, they were there, showing the pride they felt for me and sharing my joy as I stood waiting for the woman I love.

I was standing next to a Brazilian priest with a soft accent and a generous smile. I was holding Perninha against my chest as I listened to the priest say how happy he was to know we had come from so far away to have a wedding here on foreign soil.

"My parents were born here, and much of my family is Brazilian. Over the years, each of us ended up in a different country, building our lives," I said, stroking Perninha’s head.

Before I could even finish speaking with the priest, we heard the melody change, and everyone stood to watch the bride walk in. My heart raced as I turned to face the flower-strewn aisle, and then I saw her.

My bride and wife stood there, arm in arm with her father, who had tears in his eyes.

The twilight light caressed her skin gently. Her dress flowed around her body as if the wind itself danced with her. I noticed her hair was loose, with small flowers woven through the strands. And in her arms, instead of a bouquet, she carried Lola. Nestled against her chest, as if she too understood exactly what this moment meant.

My eyes welled up instantly.

Ella smiled, shy and emotional, as if every step she took toward me was a silent vow. She wasn’t just walking in my direction, I could see that each step was her choice to stand by my side.

This time, it was by our own decision, not by our parents’ manipulation.

When she finally reached me,

"Hi, princess!" I said before shaking my father-in-law’s hand.

"Hi, my love," she said just before receiving a kiss on the forehead from her father.

After all the formalities, we traded our furry children, and I kissed the top of Lola’s head, she was wearing a little bridal dress and a veil attached to her fur. Perninha had on a black t

We turned to face the priest. It was finally time to receive God’s blessing and have Ella officially as my wife. It was just the two of us now, in front of the people who love us, ready to say “yes” before all of them.

"You look..." I tried to say.

"I know," she whispered, with that smile that had saved me so many times. "So do you."

The priest began to speak, and at that moment, everything else faded away. Everything inside me was tuned only to my bride, and nothing could destroy our moment.

It was something done without much planning, but for me and Ella, it would always be more special than any grand ceremony we could ever have.

The priest spoke sacred and solemn words, but I must confess that, for a while, his voice became background noise. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart. All I could see was Ella.

The woman I once distanced myself from to avoid pain while I faced my own hell, and yet, she still had a smile on her lips.

The woman who wasn’t just promised to me, but who chose herself for me. And I, for her.

She held my hand firmly, but gently. As if saying, "I’m here. I’m whole. I’m yours."

Her eyes were teary, but steady and full of certainty. And when the priest looked at us, he said,

"Leon Carter, do you take Ella Walker as your lawful wife, promising to love her, honor her, and protect her until the end of your days?"

I could barely wait to respond.

"With every cell in my body. With every beat of my heart. Yes."

She smiled, and those around us sighed, some with tears, others smiling as if witnessing the miracle of love unfold before their eyes.

The priest turned to her.

"Ella Walker, do you take Leon Carter as your lawful husband, promising to love him, respect him, and walk by his side for all the days of your life?"

She took a deep breath. Her eyes never left mine.

"Yes. Because in you, I found my home, Leon. And now... I want to build our world."

The applause began even before the priest said we could kiss. But smiling, he gave the final blessing with his serene voice:

"Then, before God, family, and love, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Leon... you may kiss your bride."

I didn’t hesitate.

I pulled Ella to me gently, and our lips met in a kiss that wasn’t just about passion, but everything we had lived through, everything we had overcome, and everything we chose to live from this moment on.

It was the kind of kiss that seals a bond no time, no war, no death could ever break.

When we parted, I rested my forehead against hers, still smiling.

"Now we’re officially the Carters."

"Carter & Walker. An empire of love and blood," I joked, drawing an emotional laugh from her.

Perninha let out a little groan in her lap, as if tired of the ceremony, and Lola stretched out, as if to say,

Is it over?

And it was.

As our guests began to approach to hug us, I kept my wife wrapped in my arms. A bottle of champagne appeared, and we shared a wonderful moment with our family by our side.

Everything could end here, but I know I still have something left to finish.

And there is blood that cries out for vengeance.