Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
People go to their seats. The crowd hushes.
Mama walks ahead of me, takes Cristiano’s arm, then marches down the aisle toward her seat.
My turn.
Cell phones flash as people take pictures of me and Giuseppe walking down the aisle. I hear the murmur of voices. I don’t look at anyone or make eye contact. I hate ceremonial bullshit and want this over with.
I take my place up front as the music shifts. This will be a short wedding ceremony, albeit a Catholic one to appease my family and tradition but without a full mass with all the bells and whistles. Still, I want out of here, and fast. I want my ring on her finger. I want her to take vows, and I want to be done with this whole affair so I can move on and we can get all these people the fuck off my property.
“You look amazing.” I blink in surprise to see my eldest sister Techla standing right near Mama up front. I didn’t think either of my sisters would be able to make it.
“Hey,” I say warmly, reaching for her. I give her a big hug, as the music changes. “How have you been?”
“I’m good,” she says with a shrug. “Glad to see you’re finally tying the knot. Whoever picked out your clothes for today did an awesome job. Your shirt matches your eyes.”
I shrug. I seriously don’t care.
“Good,” I say. “Thanks.”
She laughs, as the crowd gets to their feet.
“Good luck,” she whispers.
I turn. The crowd parts, and I watch as my future wife heads toward me.
The throng of people dissipates, their chatter dying as the haunting lilt of a violin wafts through the humid air around us. All eyes focus near the house when a billow of white precedes my bride.
My breath leaves me when I see her.
I barely know the woman. I definitely don’t love her. But damn if I don’t feel speechless at the sight of the woman about to take vows to me walking down the aisle toward me, hanging on for dear life to Romeo Rossi’s proffered elbow. Romeo looks the part of experienced and respectable Don as well as eldest brother. He wears a well-made charcoal gray suit. His jaw’s clean-shaven, his blue eyes staring at mine unblinkingly.
He says something in a whisper to her and she smiles, lighting up her whole face. I hear gasps around us as my guests see her. She’s lovelier than any model that’s ever graced the cover of a bridal magazine.
Swathed in lace, satin, and tulle, she wears head-to-toe white, little satin pumps peeking out from beneath the lengthy hem of her dress. Her hair hangs about her face in delicate waves and curls, at once fetching and whimsical. The dark curls around her temples enhance her dancing eyes, eyes too vivid and full of laughter to ever be sober too long. Her full pouty lips curl upward as if she’s amused by everything. If fairy tales came true, I’d believe that Marialena stepped out of the pages of one and came to grace us with her presence.
The music plays on as she walks to me, people snapping so many pictures the flashes are nearly blinding for a moment. In my peripheral vision I see the flash of a camera from behind a bush. A snap of my fingers, and one of my men quickly tends to that. Goddamn paparazzi on my damn property. That’ll cost them.
Even wearing heels Marialena’s a full head shorter than Romeo, but what she doesn’t have in stature she makes up for in personality. She doesn’t need to say a word to win the hearts of every damn person here. There’s just something… charismatic about her I can’t compete with. She’s undeniably mesmerizing, with nearly hypnotic twinkling eyes that make people want to fall at her feet and worship her.
I’ll have to keep a close eye on her. There’s something so attractive about her I fear that my staff will choose her above me. And if the two of us come to cross swords, that could be a problem.
But they will love her. They will adore her.
When Romeo and Marialena meet me, she needs to crane her neck to look up at me. I don’t miss the way she swallows hard or the way she stumbles a bit and Romeo has to steady her. I definitely don’t miss her little smile, or the hopeful look in her eyes that tells me she wants to know I’m pleased with her.
“You look very handsome, almost husband,” she whispers. Romeo’s eyes widen and he barely stifles a little grimace.
I ignore him. I don’t know what he’s told her about me, but she’s taking her chances.
Almost husband.
“Thank you,” I say in a whisper, bowing my head. “As do you, almost wife. You look gorgeous.”