Next, the coordinator arrives with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
After I have more pictures taken with them, the photographer leaves.“Five minutes, Ms.Russo.”To Bella, she adds, “If you’re ready to take your place, Mrs.Moretti?”
“You’ll be okay?”Bella asks.
Part of me wants to beg her stay, but I instead offer her a small smile as I shake my head.“But thank you.”
Hand on the knob, she gives me a little wave.“I’ll be here for you.”
With her gone, the room suddenly feels larger and quieter.
Mrs.Henderson gathers her tablet.“You’re a beautiful bride, Ms.Russo.”After offering a professional smile and a promise to return in five minutes, she exits.
Despite myself, I move toward the mirror, studying the woman staring back at me.
The dress is breathtaking.
The veil drapes softly over my shoulders.
The makeup artist has transformed my face into something elegant and composed.
A perfect mafia bride.
From somewhere deep inside the cathedral, music begins to drift down the corridor.
Reverent and unmistakable organ music.
My heart thunders to a stop.
As the music swells, I squeeze my eyes shut.Every second suddenly feels heavier than the last.
Then—
The music stops.
Not gradually, but abruptly.
Silence floods the cathedral, and I straighten instinctively.
Outside the door, voices rise.
Low and urgent.
Footsteps echo against the stone floor.
My pulse hammers.
The door handle rattles, and someone speaks sharply in the hallway.
Something has gone very, very against Moretti’s carefully laid plans.
Immediately I drop my flowers and kick off my shoes, gathering the hem of my skirt, prepared to make my escape.
Then the door swings open.
ChapterSeventeen
Valentina
