As usual, Dario has the reaction I do not expect. He laughs, hard enough to put a hand over his injured shoulder. “She thought that would motivate you?”
“This isn’t funny! How could I forget them?”
“Hey,Bellissima, it’s okay. Davide and Giovanni went through their phones and found the messages. They gave the code and the men released your parents. They’re fine. They were squawking like agitated pigeons, but they weren’t hurt.” His grin is pure evil. “I did tell the Senator that they owed us a debt of gratitude for rescuing them that they will never be able to repay.”
“I think I love you,” I blurted. “Oh, my god, what a horrible way to tell you that I love you! Right after discussing my awful parents?”
Dario doesn’t seem to mind. With his signature filthy grin, he cups my face with his big, warm hands and kisses me soundly. “Good, because I am certain that I’ve loved you since I opened the door and found you there in the dungeon.”
Laughing, I climb into his lap, kissing him again. “Talking about my parents and Schmidt’s dungeon while professing our love has to be the worst ‘I love you’ moment ever.”
He shrugs, wincing when it hurts his shoulder. “Baby, we’ve never done anything the normal way.”
Kissing him again, I agree. “And we probably never will.”
Epilogue
In which Dario and Cora play 'catch me if you can.'
Cora…
“Aw honey, you’re a beaut.” Kelli’s zipped up my gown and she’s looking me over, as pleased as if she’d sewn my dress herself.
“Thanks,” I said, shifting in front of the mirror. “You don’t think this whole thing is over the top weird?”
“Well…” she straightens the cream-colored chiffon skirt, making sure it hangs correctly. “It’s backward if you think about it. Most people have the big blowout the first time they get mazzed, and then the intimate, romantic thing for a renewal, but fuck it. You and Dario do what you want and everyone will learn to like it. Or not, thinking about your parents. Which I try to avoid doing.”
“Did they actually show up?”
“Yeah, they’re making the rounds, looking like they’ve got big ol’ sticks lodged up their backsides,” Kelli said gleefully.
I really need to stop telling her stories from my childhood. Little reminisces I offered that I thought were kind of cute made her start uttering all kinds of horrified noises before telling me how fucked up it is that my father crushed my tennis trophy because he didn’t feel that I’d earned it. I had been focusing on my team winning state that year in the story, but in retrospect, I can see when the Senator’s actions could be considered to overshadow that.
Ekaterina’s pouring champagne for all of us, “I have heard a couple of stories about your parents. They’re completeublyudki,bastards, right?”
“Okay, let’s forget my parents,” I said firmly. “I have. My new family is so much better, including my bestie.”
“Sometimes, you have to create the family you deserve instead of the one you were given,” Kelli said, nodding wisely. “I learned that on TikTok.”
“More presents,” called Carlo, standing outside the room and looking disgruntled about being reduced to a package carrier for the afternoon.
“Thank you!” Ekaterina gives him a sweet smile and takes the boxes, putting them with several others that arrived today.
Glancing at one beautifully wrapped gift in gold leaf-flecked paper, I pull out the card.“From your Invisible Brother.”
“Invisible brother?” I murmur, confused. What brother? Giovanni’s here and quite visible and I’m an only child.
There’s a knock on the door of the dressing room - well, more like someone is pounding on the door - and Ekaterina opens it, shaking her head disapprovingly at Dario. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”
“It’s a wedding party, we already did the vows, remember?” Dario says, sliding past her. “So, the bad luck superstition doesn’t count.”
Damn, he looks so good… My husband’s wearing his black tux, the jacket fitting smoothly over his broad shoulders. It’s not right that he can look perfectly put together while Ekaterina and Kelli had to spend a ridiculous amount of time making me look presentable.
He looks me up and down and gives a low whistle.
“Mio Dio,my God, you are so fucking hot, my wife.”
“Sweet talker.” I’m still blushing under his lascivious regard.
