“Great,” I say.
“We will have plenty of witnesses, and you can meet the rest of the family,” Carmine tells Marlena. “But I think you should bring at least one member of your family,” he says to me.
I think about Frankie back home, and wonder if I can convince him to fly over to witness our ceremony. The way we left things, I know that he’s concerned about Marlena’s well-being, but I’m not sure if he could put that all aside. He’s still hurt that she ended up with me instead of with him. And the age difference between me and my intended bride doesn’t help.
Giovanni is busy looking for Brandon and running the organization while I’m out of the country. I can’t ask him to attend. So, I do the next best thing. I reach out to one of my own distant cousins, who is happy to participate.
The wheels are in motion. Marlena and I are finally going to get married. After all that we’ve been through, I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together. I’ve fallen for her with my whole heart, as difficult as that is to admit.
CHAPTER 31
MARLENA
I’m so nervous I can’t sit still. I try to wait patiently, but I have to get up and pace. Carmine’s wife, Daniela, stands next to me. She’s smiling, as if she understands what I’m going through. I don’t see how.
I haven’t told her that my wedding to Francisco is mostly transactional. We’re not a typical couple by any means. I tell myself that this is the only way to keep Brandon safe. As soon as Francisco and I are officially married, word will go out on the streets back home, and the people who kidnapped my brother will hear about it. At least, that’s what I hope.
I panic for a moment, thinking that he might be dead already. I try to remember the day I discovered my father was missing. How many hours did he suffer afterward before they finally killed him? I try not to think about it. Francisco has given me no cause to think that Brandon has been killed. Though he’s close-lipped about the whole affair, I sense he has hope. And he promised not to lie to me, so I have to trust him when he says Brandon could still be alive.
This is the best thing for all of us. I just have to remember that. I turn around in the tight confines of the church classroom. I don’t know anyone here except my fiancé. Daniela has been wonderful, but I just met her a day ago.
“Calm down,” she says, looking over my dress and my hair. “You look wonderful. Francisco is going to make you very happy.”
I give her a tight smile. She’s right, of course. Even though our marriage isn’t entirely romantic, I still care about this man I’m promising my life to. He’s not perfect. He runs a criminal organization, and that’s something I swore I would never get involved with. But I genuinely like him. In fact, I might be in love with him. So why not get married? It’s not the worst thing that could happen.
I brush down the skirt of my princess dress. I feel like a doll, all made up for the biggest day of my life. I would not have chosen this dress. It was just the one Daniela lent me. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m incredibly uncomfortable. The whole thing has been covered in taffeta and starched until it scratches. I fidget nervously. The clock ticks away the seconds, bringing me closer and closer to the altar.
“Here,” Daniela says, producing an old wooden box from a shelf near the door.
“What is it?” I ask genuinely interested.
“All the things you need for your ceremony,” she replies.
I watch as she opens it up, revealing a collection of small hand-me-down items. There’s a hair clip and a bracelet sitting on top of an old photograph.
“These belonged to your great-grandmother,” Daniela says.
I look at her with tears in my eyes. My mother is dead, and it means so much to me to have a family on this special occasion. I never thought I would ever experience the bond of blood relatives again. Other than Brandon, I thought my family tree had been chopped down. But now, halfway around the world, I’ve found my tribe again. It’s amazing that even though I’ve just met these people, I feel comfortable around them. They’ve sworn to protect me, and that’s something I would never have asked them to do. They don’t care. I’m one of them, and that’s all that matters.
I take the hair clip gently. It’s polished and oiled so that even though it’s clearly very old, it hasn’t rusted. I wonder if my great-grandmother used it for her wedding. Daniela takes it from me, sets the box down, and deftly collects my hair behind my head. I feel the pinch as she fits the barrette in place. Next comes the bracelet, a delicate silver thing that fits my wrist perfectly.
“What’s this?” I ask, looking into the box to examine the photo.
“That’s her,” Daniela says, removing the photo so I can see better.
There’s a young woman eating an apple in the middle of a country road. The photo is blurred at the edges, proving just how old it is. The subject of the photo is gorgeous, with her eyes sparkling warmly from beneath dark brown lashes. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and the clothes she wears hide most of her figure. But the smooth curve of her chin and the impish way she holds the apple tells me a lot about her personality. I think we could have been good friends, if only she were still alive today.
“She’s beautiful,” I say reverently.
“And so are you,” Daniela responds.
There’s a knock on the door, and a teenage girl pokes her head in. She says something in Italian to Daniela, who nods.
“Five minutes,” Daniela translates.
I nod. I’m ready for this. I try to quell the rising storm threatening to overtake my stomach. This is worse than butterflies. It’s like a swarm of locusts. I press my eyes shut, willing myself to relax. It’s not a big deal. I’m just going to walk down the aisle and promise my entire life to a man I barely know. No sweat.
“Should we go?” Daniela asks.
