I adjust my tie for the hundredth time and scan the crowd. My father sits in the front row, looking satisfied in a way that tells me this alliance is already paying dividends. Behind him, Uncle Sal and the other underbosses wear the expressions of men who've watched their boss make a brilliant strategic move.
On the other side, Roberto Bonacci checks his watch. He's been nothing but cordial to me over the past three weeks, but I notice the calculation in his eyes every time he looksat me. I'm the man who compromised his daughter, and now I'm about to become his son-in-law. The complexity of that relationship will take time to navigate.
"She's lovely, you know," Tommy says. "Saw her at the rehearsal dinner. You did good, cousin."
"I know I did." The words come out more possessive than I intended, but I don't care. Three weeks of formal courtship, of chaperoned visits and carefully orchestrated family dinners, and I still feel like I'm going crazy every time I see her.
"Still can't believe Roberto agreed to this."
"The baby changed everything."
"Yeah, but still. Bonacci's precious princess marrying a Lombardi? Six months ago, that would have started a war."
The organ music starts, and conversation dies throughout the cathedral.
This is it.
The side door opens, and the bridal party begins their procession. Viviana's cousin serves as maid of honor, followed by two of her friends from school. They look young and slightly overwhelmed by the gravity of the occasion.
Then the music changes to the traditional wedding march, and every person in the cathedral stands.
The doors at the back of the church open.
And there she is.
Viviana appears in the doorway on her father's arm, and I forget how to breathe. The dress is simple but elegant, classic in a way that makes her look timeless. Her dark hair is swept up beneath a cathedral-length veil, and even from this distance, I can see she's nervous.
But she's beautiful.
So gorgeous it makes my chest ache.
They start down the aisle, Roberto's face a mask of paternal pride mixed with something that looks like resignation. This isn't how he pictured giving away his daughter. But as they get closer, I catch his eye, and he gives me a small nod.
Take care of her.
I will.
Viviana's eyes find mine when she's halfway down the aisle, and everything else fades away. The packed cathedral, the carefully negotiated alliance—none of it matters. All that matters is the woman walking toward me, carrying my child, about to become my wife.
She reaches the altar, and Roberto places her hand in mine after a brief hesitation.
"Take care of her," he says quietly, so only I can hear.
"With my life," I reply.
He nods and steps back, taking his seat in the front pew.
The priest begins the ceremony, but I barely hear the words. I'm too focused on Viviana, on the fact that she's really here, really doing this.
"The couple has written their own vows," the priest announces. "Damon?"
I turn to face Viviana fully, taking both her hands in mine. Looking at her now, everything I planned to say disappears.
"Viviana," I begin. "Three months ago, I thought I knew exactly what my life would look like. I thought I had everythingfigured out. Then I met you, and you turned my entire world upside down."
A few chuckles from the congregation, but I keep my eyes on her.
"You challenged me, frustrated me, made me want things I didn't know I was capable of wanting. You made me realize that everything I thought was important was nothing compared to this. To us."
