“I’m ready to go down.”
It’s embarrassing that I didn’t know what to expect as I entered the church. Ilaria had been planning the wedding with my mother, never really checking in with my input because she had realized how stressed I was opening up the Inferno. She had tried to get me involved with a few things: cake tasting and asking about what I wanted to give as gifts. But the wedding had been mostly planned by her.
Seeing the church covered in red roses, traditional and glamorous made sense. It reminded me of her. The classic beauty in it.
Ilaria and I hadn’t shied away from tradition.
We hadn’t fought for the freedom that other people our age were doing as families changed, as the world changed. Both of us liked the idea of pleasing our parents. We had seen happiness in them and it made it easy to trust their decisions. We knew we would be happy.
I’d do anything to make her happy.
Shifting after shaking hands with the priest I turned towards the door, knowing that my wife would be walking towards me at any minute. When I walked out of this church I was going to be a married man.
The head of my own family.
A step closer to being the Don.
Today would change the rest of my life.
Madeline was the first bridesmaid to be walked down the aisle with my cousin Gio on her arm. He had been paired with her because Enzo had made a stink about walking with Tessa, who came down the aisle next with my guard on her arm.
Behind them came Sammie with her future husband Alejandro on her arm. My other guard had been kicked out of the wedding party when the new Cartel boss had made it clear that his fiancée would not be walking with another man.
And finally there was Becca and Francesco, both of them scowling like being together was the worst thing in the world.
Francesco glared at her several times, annoyed by the high slight of the black silk gown and the generous amount of cleavage that Becca had displayed. Probably done just to get under his skin.
He didn’t part like he was supposed to, instead he helped her up the step to stand beside where my wife would be. He was giving her a look that Becca smiled so widely at, my cousin blinked half a dozen times as if he realized she could ignore him without caring. Pissing him off even more as he stormed to stand beside me.
“I don’t know why you’re getting married. Seems like it’s a sure way to get your balls cut off.” Franceseco muttered, still sending daggers over to Becca who wasn’t even looking in his direction but her hand raises and she makes a scissor motion that he scowls at, looking away from her.
I was sure they were going to end up in bed together by the end of the night.
The bridal march starts.
Everyone standing as I take in a deep breath, realizing that Ilaria was about to walk out and we would be getting married, bound together for a lifetime.
The doors to the church opened and I felt the way my heart thundered in my chest as I watched her standing at the end of the aisle, wanting to rush towards her and hold her in my arms. She was too beautiful to be around all these people. I needed to be selfish and have her all to myself.
“I stand corrected.” Francesco’s comment made me want to stab him and I was thankful when Alejandro punched him in the ribs, getting an oof from the way that the air rushed from his lungs. A snort from Becca made him glare around me.
It was like we had kids already.
Ilaria was wearing a long sleeve gown, the sleeves a thin lace covered in sparkles, the top tight and cut low with a mesh panel that didn’t let anyone see what was mine.
Of course my princess was in a ballgown, her long veil covering her with a tiara on her head. She looked the part of the Italian Mafia Princess. But she was about to be a queen.
“Dante.”
Her fathers voice was ringing in my ears but I was already reaching for Ilaria, flipping the veil because I needed to see her face.
The soft smile on her face as I reached out cupping her cheek, watching her hand off her flowers to Becca as she turned her attention to me, all smiles as she leaned into my palm.
“Hey.”
“Hey, principessa.” She stepped forwards, suddenly seeming to realize that her father was still on her arm,.
“Papa.”
He looked at her like she had hung the sun, which seemed to be a common theme when looking at her. Maybe that was the Ilaria effect, to look at her and realize that nothing mattered as much as seeing her smile.
“You two will be a good match.” He was sure of himself as he turned to look at me, “Dante, this is my daughter. My own child. My soul. Do you understand that I am trusting you with the greatest gift of my life? That you are marrying my blood.”
Swallowing, I looked at her father instead of Ilaria. What it must be like to give away someone you took care of and loved your whole life. I couldn’t imagine it.
Ilaria and I could have a half dozen kids and then letting them leave my protection to be with someone else? The idea of it made me want to punch something but she was reaching out, pressing her thumb to the crease of my forehead as she smiled again.
“Children grow up. Just know that you raised me and loved me in a way that will make it hard to top when Dante and I have children of our own to love.”
My heart thunders at Ilaria’s words, watching her kiss her Papa’s cheeks before he stepped away and I pull her up, closer to me.
“I love you.”
Her lips pull up into a smirk at my words, letting me kiss the back of her hands as the priest clears his throat, annoyed we had already taken up so much of his time. But Ilaria didn’t care. She was stepping closer to me, pressing her lips against mine as I smiled against hers.
“I know.”
39ILARIA
