I shake hands with his groomsmen, all men from ourfamiglia.
“Is that the new nanny?” Carmine asks, blatantly staring at Sloane as she chats with my parents.
My spine stiffens as I narrow my eyes on him. “Yes. What of it?”
“Maybe I should’ve held out for the replacement.” He laughs at his own joke, and a couple of his groomsmen join him. His tone might sound teasing, but the way he’s undressing Sloane with his eyes is anything but trivial.
“Watch your mouth, and quit eye fucking her,” I say through gritted teeth. “Remember your place. You’re in a church about to marry your best friend’s youngest daughter. Show some respect,” I hiss, close to throttling the bastard.
“Apologies,capocrimine.I did not mean any offense. It’s just my nerves getting at me.” He dabs his sweaty brow with a monogrammed handkerchief, and I work hard to hide my disgust. There’s a reason this man never advanced beyond thesoldatoranks, and right now, I’m glad for it.
A commotion at the back of the church is a welcome interruption. “I believe the bride has arrived. Congratulations again,” I say before spinning around and walking toward my seat, my jaw clenching the entire time.
“Is everything all right?” Sloane whispers when I slide onto the bench beside her.
“It’s fine.” My facial muscles relax the instant I look at her stunning face.
She leans in closer, placing her mouth close to my ear. “This might be bad of me to say, but I cannot believe Isotta is marryinghim.”
I smother my laughter, but my lips twitch as I turn my head toward her and whisper in her ear, “That makes two of us.”
“Why?” she asks, as the “Wedding March” starts.
“It’s complicated,” I whisper back as we join the congregation in standing. Thankfully, she can’t ask me any more questions I’d struggle to answer because the ceremony is underway.
The flower girls lead the procession, scattering petals on the ground as they walk toward the altar. Elio looks proud as punch as he follows them, holding the ring cushion and swaggering up the aisle. The guests all ooh and aah at the children, and they’re lapping it up like mini celebrities.
“He has so much confidence,” Sloane says, leaning around me to snap a picture. I take a few myself before turning my cell off and slipping it into my pocket.
“Look, Daddy!” Elio shouts when he reaches us, earning a few chuckles. “I’m carrying the rings.”
“You’re doing a great job, son.” Warmth blossoms in my chest as I watch him stride confidently to the altar and hand the cushion off. Then he runs back and slides in beside me. “Well done. You make me proud,” I say, hugging him against my side.
“Grandma.” Elio leans across me. “Did you see me?”
“I did,nipote. You were the best ring bearer I’ve ever seen.”
“I wanna sit beside Grandma and Sloane,” he says, pushing past me without delay.
I turn to watch Isa coming up the aisle with her father. Rafaelo walks proudly with his daughter on his arm. The Da Rosa patriarch stops to acknowledge me and my parents, and I wonder what Sloane is making of all this. Perhaps I should’ve said something to prepare her for today. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold much back after the wedding, and maybe it’s time I told her the truth.
Although Isa is hidden behind a traditional lace veil, I sense the daggers she points in Sloane’s direction, and I feel a sliver of guilt for not taking her feelings into account. But what’s done is done, and she should have realized I’d be bringing my new nanny as my plus-one.
Rafaelo moves on, handing his daughter to Carmine before taking his seat beside his wife.
The ceremony is long, and trying to keep Elio seated and quiet is an effort. When I take him outside to use the bathroom, I let him run around for a few minutes to expend some energy before we return.
Finally, the union is sealed, and the ceremony ends. We trail out after the wedding party, the other guests holding back out of respect for my family. Shit. I can’t keep Sloane away from Isa for this part, and it’s bound to be awkward. However, it’d be worse if she didn’t line up beside me to pay her respects to the happy couple, so she’ll have to suck it up and fake it.
“Crap,” Sloane mutters under her breath as we approach the church doors, spotting the bridesmaids and groomsmen moving in a line, offering their congratulations to the married couple.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, tucking her arm in mine. “Just wish them well, and we’ll move on.”
I let my parents go ahead of us, squeezing Sloane’s arm in reassurance as we inch up. Isa’s eyes are like laser beams watching us, and her eyes spit fire when she looks at Sloane. Her gaze drags up and down her body with obvious envy. Maybe I should feel guilty for bringing her with me and buying her such an exquisite gown, but I honestly can’t find it in me to care. Isa made an enemy out of Sloane when it didn’t have to be this way.
“Congratulations, Isa.” I lean in to kiss her cheek as Elio barrels past me, running after my parents.
“Hi, Auntie Isa,” he sings as he dashes past. “Bye, Auntie Isa.”
