Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Dad.” I still loved the dress. It was a satin piece with long laced sleeves and a scalloped neck. The flared skirt protected the very slight bump that only I noticed. A floral tiara with small crystals sat atop my head, and my hair was in a low updo at the nape of my neck.
He stared at me for a while longer, then toward Mom, and they exchanged an emotionally charged look, which made me emotional too. Something I really didn’t want. I needed to keep my emotions bottled up today if I wanted to appear as a somewhat content bride. “And are you ready to go?”
I didn’t feel ready. Mostly, I felt nauseous despite the medication I’d taken. My pregnancy was still a closely guarded secret, so I really couldn’t risk throwing up anywhere public today. Of course, everyone would know about it soon enough, and it would be obvious that the child hadn’t been conceived after our wedding. Still, I was glad for every day that the truth wasn’t out.
Nervous didn’t even begin to cover my feelings. Sara had hardly talked to me when we’d met last time, nor had she replied to my last message. I hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t asked her about the baby or anything about the apartment. I’d given her the space she obviously craved. We’d have to spend enough time together in the future.
I wasn’t fucking sure how that would work. Our encounters had been polite but distant.
“You look ready to puke,” Amo commented. He was my best man and currently lounging on the sofa, ignoring the messages from his wife that popped up on his phone.
“Your marriage stories don’t give me much hope for myself.”
“Sara isn’t Cressida. She’s lovely, and you’ll soon have a child, so you’re bound to make a real effort.”
“Plus, I’m not in love with anyone else.”
“Nor is Sara. That bond was simply a convenient union,” Amo said, ignoring my jab.
The door opened without warning. “It’s time.” Primo sent Amo an annoyed look. “It’s your job to make sure he’s not late to his own wedding.”
Amo got up with cocked eyebrows. “You did before I could.”
Primo gave me a nod before he left again.
“Is he still mad that you picked me as best man?”
I shrugged. He never said it outright, but I was sure he was. My brother and I were close, not as close as we’d been as kids, because we found different friends as we grew up, and I simply shared more of my shit with Amo. Primo was family, and I’d die for him, but I’d always known Amo would be my best man.
“He’s right, though. We need to go.”
I followed Amo out of the room where I’d spent the past hour getting ready, even if it had taken only ten minutes to get dressed, and I still didn’t feel ready.
When I entered the church with Amo and we headed to the front, everyone’s eyes were on me. Being muscled, tall, and tattooed, plus a member of the Famiglia, I was used to attention, but this attention was different. It was curious, concerned, or condemning.
I didn’t return anyone’s gaze and simply nodded at the priest before I stopped in front of him. I had never been a churchgoer, nor was my family. We didn’t talk about God. I wasn’t even sure what Dad believed or didn’t believe. Mom was spiritual but not in an organized church kind of way. I wasn’t sure what I believed. But I wouldn’t have chosen a wedding in a church if it weren’t for our traditions and the fact that everything had already been planned before I entered the picture. To me, entering church felt sacrilegious because I was committing sins on a daily basis and had no intention of stopping. It felt hypocritical to ask for the blessing of an institution that should condemn me to eternity in hell. But most Made Men didn’t have trouble becoming pious when it suited them.
When the music began playing, I turned around to the entrance. Romero led Sara toward me. She was breathtaking. I’d always found her attractive, but she was simply stunning today. Her dress wasn’t as modest as I’d suspected. Maybe she would have chosen a different dress knowing who she was marrying and why. My gaze briefly darted to her belly, but the way her dress was tailored with a narrow waist and a wide skirt below, you couldn’t make out a bump. Did she even have one yet? I hadn’t seen her in more than two weeks, and she’d always worn loose sweaters when I’d visited.
I fucking wished our bond hadn’t begun the way it had. I wished I could fantasize about my gorgeous bride and what we might do tonight because Sara was definitely a woman who gave you plenty of reasons to fantasize about her. I tore my gaze away from her neckline and focused on her face. She was smiling, her gaze focused straight ahead but didn’t meet mine. When she arrived at my side, one look at her eyes told me the smile was as fake as I’d suspected. Tension radiated from her.