I stood and crossed the room slowly, fingers itching to touch her. Not even out of desire—though, yeah, that was there too—but because she looked like something out of a dream. And part of me still didn’t believe she was real.
“Nicola,” I murmured, voice low as I stood behind her.
My fingers moved to the zipper, but I paused.
“You are…you’re breathtaking.”
She turned slightly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “You’re biased.”
“I’m not biased. I’m in love with you. That’s different.”
Her breath caught. I saw it in the mirror. She blinked, just once, before smiling down at her hands.
“I’ve seen you in team kits and dripping wet in the rain,” I said, slowly zipping the dress. “I’ve seen you angry and exhausted, determined and fierce. But this…this softness? You like letting me see that part of you, you in red.” I looked her up and down and let out a whistle.
“I’ll never stop being in awe of you,” I said, “Not just because you’re beautiful. But because you survived a world that tried to flatten you, and you came out sharper, smarter, and somehow still soft where it matters most. You never had to be perfect for me. You just had to be you.”
She turned then, facing me fully, and I saw it in her eyes—that thing I’d been feeling for weeks now. Love. Big and blinding and honest.
I cupped her face, pressing my forehead against hers. “I’m not going to pretend like I planned any of this. But being with you—this is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“I’m glad you stole my towel,” she whispered with a laugh.
“I’d steal all your towels if it meant keeping you.”
She leaned up, kissed me soft and slow, and I swore the rest of the world dropped away.
“I love you too,idiot,” she sighed into me. My breath caught. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I had to tell her, but I hadn’t expected her to say it back, not yet. I knew she felt it too, but Nicola had placed bricks on bricks of walls around her, protecting herself. Her shields were locked into place, but here she was opening the door, letting me in. For the first time, the future didn’t feel so far off. Her hand in mine. Being able to profess to the whole damn world that this whirlwind of a woman was mine. I was one lucky man.
The car ride to the gala passed in a blur of nerves I hadn’t expected to feel. Not race-day nerves. This was different. This was personal.
Nicola sat beside me, legs crossed at the ankle, one hand on her lap and the other resting between us, close enough for me to feel the warmth of her skin. The dress shimmered every time the car hit a patch of light, like the night was trying to show her off.
She was calm. Regal, even. But when I reached for her hand, she laced her fingers through mine without hesitation.
“You sure about this?” I asked, my voice low, barely more than a breath between us.
“Yes.” Just one word—but it landed like a punch to the chest, knocking the air right out of me. Simple. Certain. So very Moretti of her. Nicola never wavered when she made up her mind. She didn’t do things halfway, didn’t say yes unless she meant it. And the fact that she was sure aboutme? That I was something she’d chosen with that same unwavering conviction? God, it felt like the biggest honor of my life.
Outside the venue, the cameras were already going wild—flashes popping like fireworks, fans shouting behind barricades, the red carpet glowing under the entrance lights. It was the kind of chaos I was used to…but tonight it felt different.
Because she was beside me.
We stepped out together. Instantly, the sound doubled.
I felt her pause for half a breath, just enough for me to catch the flicker of nerves in her eyes. I squeezed her hand. “Ready to make them all jealous?”
“God, you’re annoying,” she muttered through a smile.
The press didn’t know where to look. I caught at least three jaws drop when they realized Nicola Moretti wasn’t just walking beside me—she waswithme. And I couldn’t even pretend to hide it. I kept my hand at the small of her back, touching her waist lightly as we turned toward the cameras, my body angled toward hers like gravity had finally stopped pretending.
We posed for the official shots—her with her practiced elegance, me with the smug grin of a man who knew damn well he’d hit the jackpot.
“You realize this is going to break the internet, right?” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
“Good.”
She laughed and turned to face me, took my face in her hands and pulled me down, our lips meeting on the red carpet. The sound was worth every headline that would follow.
