Warmth softens her stern face as she smiles after Elio. There is no doubting how much she loves her nephew.
“You look lovely,” I say, “I hope you’ll be very happy.”
Before I can pull back, Isa grabs me, making a meal out of kissing both my cheeks. “Thank you for coming, Cris, and thanks so much for your very generous wedding gift. It was truly too much.”
I upgraded their honeymoon flights to first class and I purchased a crystal wine decanter and matching glasses set from their wedding list.
“It was indeed most generous,” Carmine agrees, pulling his much younger wife into his side.
“Congratulations, Isotta,” Sloane politely says. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” Isa says in a clipped tone, and I can tell it killed her to offer that insincere thanks.
“We haven’t met.” Carmine grabs Sloane’s arm, yanking her toward him.
I haul her back to my side, pinning him with a warning look. He is not putting his grabby hands anywhere near her. “This is Sloane. Sloane, this is Carmine.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says, clinging a little harder to me. “Congratulations on your marriage.”
“Thank you for coming.” His eyes briefly land on her chest, and I don’t like it. I already warned him inside, and this is the height of disrespect to Sloane, his wife, and to me. “Perhaps you’ll honor me with a dance later.”
Over my dead fucking body. Before I have a chance to put him in his place again, his bride does it for me.
“Perhaps she won’t,” Isa snaps, glaring at her husband.
“We’ll leave you to your guests,” I clip out. I’m seething, and I need to get Sloane out of here before I murder the groom in front of her.
Sloane visibly relaxes against me as I guide her away from the happy couple, heading in my parents’ direction.
“Cris?” Sloane inquires under her breath when we’re far enough away. “I didn’t realize it was that friendly between you two.”
Jealousy is obvious in her tone. It should please me, but I’m trying hard to keep things professional and uncomplicated between us, and the lines are only blurring further. “It’s not. I hate when she calls me that.”
“Then it’s disrespectful of her to keep using it.”
“I know.” I’ve been more lenient with Isa than I probably should’ve been.
“She really hates me,” Sloane says over a sigh. “I feel bad that I came. As much as I don’t like her, it’s not fair. This is her wedding day. I should go home.”
“Absolutely not.” I turn to face her, stalling our forward trajectory. “I will smooth things over when we get to the hotel. You’re here as my guest, and that’s final.”
We join my parents, chatting with them as I keep an eye on where Elio is running around playing chase with his cousins. We move on to the church grounds for the photos after most of the guests have departed for the wedding reception. Sloane helps my mother to wrangle Elio into position for the various photos while I stand off to one side with my father.
“Sloane is a fine young woman, and she seems to have a good head on her shoulders,” my father says.
“She’s mature for her age and really good with Elio.”
“What about you?” my father asks with a glint in his eye.
“What about me?” I play dumb on purpose.
“Come now, Cristian. Don’t try to fool an old fool. She’s a very beautiful young woman. Smart, kind, and good with your son. Surely, you know what I’m suggesting.”
“She’s twenty-one, Pops.”
“And?” He stares at me like I’m making no sense.
“And most twenty-one-year-olds don’t want to be saddled with a husband and son. They want to party and enjoy life before settling down.”
