“Okay, you're running on adrenaline. I want you to tell me if you start to feel dizzy after the adrenaline subsides.”
“I’ll be fine.” I look him in the eyes. “I don’t regret what I did to him. What I did freed me, and after the rest are dealt with, I will be even better.”
Gabriel studies my face for a moment longer before he nods. “You know how to reach Vito and his crew?”
I smile. “Yes. I also have Gianni’s phone. I’ll make them come here, and you and Mack make sure they are captured.”
“Do you want them to suffer slowly, or do you want it quick and done?”
I contemplate my choices and decide that it’s time to move on. “Make it quick, but make them suffer.”
He smiles, cupping my face. “Let’s get that over with so we can focus on our future together.”
eleven
Gabriel
I see determination on Valentina’s face. I see her pain and how she is not letting what happened to her break her. On the contrary, she is showing that she isn’t made of glass and that she is indeed the mafia princess living in this world, letting this life make her stronger. And I smile with pride that this woman is going to be my wife.
twelve
Valentina
“Everyone is here. We need to wrap this up,” my mother announces from the door. Her eyes rake up and down my dress.
Today is my wedding day. A nervous flutter pulses in my chest as the sunlight streams through the sheer curtains of my bridal room. I’m marrying the man I secretly dreamed of, the man I would do anything to keep. I plotted this, and it couldn’t have gone better.
After weeks of planning and getting back in shape after the attack, I’m ready to walk down the aisle and marry Gabriel.
For the last time, I trace my hand down my dress and meet my mother’s unapproving look. “You just had to have it your way. What will people say?”
I’ve rolled my eyes I don't know how many times today. I stopped counting a long time ago. I knew she would disapprove, but I don’t care. This is my wedding, the only one I will ever have, and I want it my way.
Chiara looks between my mother and me. “Why should we care what people say? It’s not like it’s their wedding.”
“Of course it’s not their wedding, but what you do affects what people say about you. And I only pray this wedding doesn’t go sideways and we don’t get dragged through the mud.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you could be metaphorical,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Shame on you, speaking to your mother like this.”
Before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door, followed by Nico entering. He stops at the entrance and smirks.
“I expected nothing less from you.” I smile at him in the mirror and look at myself for the last time. My champagne fit and flare wedding gown is strapless. The bodice is covered with black floral lace that melts into a full, flowing train adorned with intricate black floral lace. I complemented it with a long sheer black tulle veil over my now short hair, which I cut in the hope that it would give me control over my emotions, over the rage and anger I felt for letting them hurt me. They wanted to remind me of that bastard Mario, but I erased him from my memory with each cut of my strands.
The veil drapes over the train and matches the lace on my dress. I finished the look with black high-heel pumps with metal sculpted heels and, of course, my cherry red lipstick.
“You look beautiful.” Ignoring my mother’s hovering and disagreement, Nico leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Are you ready?”
I nod. “Yes, I am.” I look at my mother, who looks perfect in her champagne-colored sparkling dress, and my sweet Chiara, who is my only bridesmaid, in a red dress. “You two should go to your places.”
After giving me another disapproving look, my mother stands and leaves. Chiara approaches me and gives me my flowers, white roses. “You look beautiful, no matter what Mom says.” I smile and watch her leave, then turn to my brother and take his hand, ready to walk down the aisle.
My Love is All Mineplays, and step by step, I walk down the aisle, holding my brother’s hand. I ignore the looks and focus my attention on Gabriel; my stomach flips at the sight of him standing at the end of the aisle in an all-black tuxedo that was made just for him. No tie, because he doesn’t like them; instead, he’s wearing a collar bar. My eyes meet his, and he smiles. When I reach him, I take his hand and take one last step until I’m in front of him. He leans down, his breath tickling my skin as he speaks. “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
We turn toward the priest, who starts the ceremony, and with every spoken word, my heartbeat rises with excitement, so I barely hear the words, “You may now kiss the bride.”
