“I do not pace.”
“You absolutely pace,” Giovanni says dryly. “Don’t worry. The bride won’t toss Rose along with the bouquet.”
“Keep making jokes, Gallo, and I’ll see you in the parking lot after the service.”
I shake my head, but my mouth can’t stop twitching.
Friendship isn’t something that happens naturally in the life of Dons. But tonight, I am proud to call these people my friends.
Luca claps a hand on my shoulder as I step into the circle. “You ready for this?”
I glance across the room again. Izzy is looking at me now, her eyes bright with something that is half disbelief and half joy. Even after everything we have been through, she still looks surprised that this is real.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
Now I am.
We don’t bother with the organ. Or the aisle. Or even chairs. Everyone here is on the same level, standing either with the bride or the groom, but all in a semicircle around us. The Dons, the bridesmaids—and Noah.
He insisted on wearing a tiny suit for the occasion. He looks like a miniature businessman who wandered into the wrong meeting. At the moment he is standing beside Izzy with impressive determination, but I can see the battle he is fighting with sleep. His head tilts against her hip for a moment before he straightens again.
“I’m not tired,” he whispers stubbornly.
Izzy brushes his hair back. “You’re falling asleep standing up.”
“I’m fine.”
He closes his eyes. Opens them again. Closes them.
I feel something unfamiliar tug at the edges of my composure.
Amusement. Pride. Something dangerously close to tenderness.
Leone notices and nudges me with his elbow. “You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I will shoot you.”
“You can’t shoot the officiant,” he replies smugly, holding up his phone. “The internet gave me power.”
“What the internet giveth, I can easily taketh away,” I remind him with a smile.
“Right.” Leone steps forward and clears his throat loudly. “Alright. Let’s do this before the kid faceplants.”
Laughter ripples through the room as Izzy walks toward me. When she reaches my side, I take her hands. Her fingers are warm and trembling slightly. I notice that immediately, and the tremor does something unexpected inside my chest.
Leone gestures impatiently. “Your vows, Romeo.”
I ignore him. My eyes focus on Izzy. My queen. The woman who changed my life.
And suddenly, no one exists in the room but us.
“Notte Bianca,” I begin slowly, my voice steady in the quiet room, “means white night.”
Her brows lift slightly as she listens.
