As our families file out of the cathedral behind us, mixing and mingling in ways that would have been impossible six months ago, I realize something has fundamentally shifted. This isn't about duty or honor.
This is about building something new. Something better than either family could have achieved alone.
And it starts with the woman beside me and our unborn child who will be the bridge between two worlds that have been at war for too long.
"Ready for the reception?" I ask as Tommy brings the car around.
"Ready for all of it," she says.
So am I.
Chapter 31: Viviana
I wake up to the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below our villa and the feel of Damon's arm wrapped possessively around my waist. I lie there, processing the fact that I'm Mrs. Lombardi now, that the man beside me is my husband, and that we're alone together for the first time in months without the weight of family expectations hanging over us.
The morning sickness that plagued me for weeks has finally faded, leaving me feeling more like myself than I have since this all began. Better than myself, actually. There's something about being four months pregnant that's made my skin glow and my hair thicker, and for the first time, I actually look forward to eating breakfast instead of dreading it.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lombardi," Damon murmurs sleepily against my neck.
"Good morning, husband." The word still feels foreign on my tongue, but in the best possible way.
He shifts behind me, and I can feel that he's already hard, pressing against my back through the thin silk of my nightgown.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, his hand moving to rest on the small bump that's finally starting to barely show.
"Amazing, actually. The nausea is completely gone, and I feel... I don't know. Energetic. Like I could run a marathon or climb a mountain."
"Or stay in bed all day with your husband?"
I turn in his arms to face him, and the look in his dark eyes makes heat pool low in my belly.
"That definitely sounds like the best option."
It's been three days since we arrived at this private villa on the Amalfi Coast that Damon rented for two weeks. Three days of sleeping late, eating incredible food, and slowly learning how to be married to each other without an audience.
"You're glowing," he says, tracing his fingers along my cheek. "Literally glowing. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"It's the pregnancy hormones. I'm like a walking advertisement for prenatal vitamins."
"It's more than that." His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "You look happy. Really, genuinely happy."
"I am happy." The admission surprises me with its simplicity. "Very much so. Are you?"
"Happier than I thought possible." He leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet at first, then deeper as I respond. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong."
"Nothing's going to go wrong.”
He pulls back to look at me, something like wonder in his expression. "When did you become the optimistic one in this relationship?"
"When I realized I married the man I love instead of some man Papa would’ve arranged for me to marry." I brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. "There's a difference, you know."
"And what would that be?"
"The man I was supposed to marry would have been safe. Predictable. Approved by my father and perfectlyacceptable to everyone in our world." I trace patterns on his chest with my fingertip. "But he wouldn't have challenged me or made me feel alive or given me butterflies every time he looked at me."
"And the man you love?"
"The man I love is dangerous and complicated and makes me want to be braver than I actually am. He saved my life and turned my world upside down and gave me a future I never could have imagined."
