When he finally pulls back, breathless, his forehead rests against mine. His eyes are still closed for a moment, and I see the raw vulnerability in his face, a flicker of emotion he rarely allows to show.
He opens his eyes, looking at me, truly looking at me, with an intensity that steals my breath. "I love you, Nikki. We're tied now for real."
"Forever," I whisper, my heart pounding. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
He smiles then, an utterly devastating grin that promises chaos and a lifetime of brutal, beautiful moments. He takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, and turns to face the small, watchful crowd.
The chapel erupts in a smattering of applause, polite and reserved. My mom's crying, a handkerchief pressed to her mouth. Enzo gives a brief, almost imperceptible nod, his eyesstill scanning the room, ever watchful. The few guests offer muted congratulations, their faces betraying little emotion. They're witnesses, not participants. They're here to observe the power. To acknowledge the claim.
Rafe leads me out of the chapel, his hand a firm, possessive anchor. The sunlight outside's blinding after the dimness of the church. The air's fresh, carrying the scent of pine and wild herbs. My body feels lighter, yet grounded.
I just married a man who might set the world on fire for me. Not the wedding I pictured. But honestly? Way more badass.
And perfect.
Who needs a Pinterest wedding when you’ve got bodyguards, murder vibes, and a ring that might double as a tracking device? 10/10. Would marry again.
CHAPTER 36
NIKKI
The car winds up the same damn driveway to Rafe’s villa where I was first taken, and I swear my heart does this weird hiccup thing.
Like muscle memory, but for trauma.
Which sounds like something I'd caption on a wellness post, except this is real life and my husband is holding my hand while we drive back to the place where he first held me prisoner.
But here's the thing that makes my chest go all fluttery and weird. The trees. Those same ancient, intimidating trees that felt like prison bars six months ago? They're wrapped in thousands of tiny fairy lights. Golden sparkles threading through every branch, turning the whole driveway into something out of a fairy tale.
"Holy shit," I breathe, and Rafe squeezes my hand.
"Language, Mrs. Valentino," he says, but he's smiling, and God, I love when he calls me that. Mrs. Valentino. Like I'm some Italian socialite who was born to this instead of a Florida girl who learned to be fancy through YouTube tutorials.
"Excuse me,holy shitballs, Mr. Valentino," I correct. "Better?"
His laugh is low and warm and does things to my insides that should probably be illegal. "Much better."
The fairy lights get denser as we approach the villa, and suddenly I can see the entrance, the same imposing stone archway that felt like the gates of hell when I first arrived. Except now it's covered in flowers. Like,covered. White roses and peonies cascading everywhere, with a banner stretched across that says"Benvenuti Mr. & Mrs. Valentino"in elegant script.
My eyes start doing that annoying watery thing they do when I'm overwhelmed. "Did you plan this?"
"The staff wanted to celebrate," he says, but his voice has that careful quality that means he absolutely planned every detail. "I may have provided some... guidance."
Some guidance.
Right.
Like how I provide "some guidance" when I tell my photographer exactly which angle makes my nose look smaller.
The car stops, and I just sit there for a second, staring up at the villa. Same cream stone. Same intimidating windows. Same massive front door that I once thought I'd never walk through again as a free woman.
But now? Now there are balloons. Actual balloons, in soft pastels, bobbing gently in the evening breeze. And more flowers than a celebrity funeral, except happy. It looks like a wedding venue from one of those magazines that costs thirty dollars and makes you feel poor.
"You okay?" Rafe asks, and there's genuine concern in his voice. He knows what this place was for me. What it meant. The terror, the helplessness, the way I paced that white room like a caged animal.
"Yeah," I say, and I mean it. "Just... it's different now."
Everything's different now.
