A quiet satisfaction settles somewhere in my chest before I can question it.
I chose Matteo for a reason.
When I did my research, there were dozens of designers I could have brought in—names, reputations, people who dress politicians and celebrities. But Matteo’s work stood out. Clean. Intentional. Elegance without noise.
And he’s gay.
Which, at the time, mattered for reasons I told myself were purely practical. No complications. No misunderstandings. Valeria would be comfortable. Nothing more.
That’s all.
Nothing more.
I keep my expression unchanged.
Matteo enters just behind her, adjusting the fall of her train with practiced hands, smoothing the fabric once as if sealing the final detail of a finished work. Then he steps back, immediately fading into the background as though he was never there at all.
My eyes stay on Valeria.
Because, despite everything I told myself, the room doesn’t feel like it’s watching a contract anymore.
It feels like it’s watching a beginning.
She walks down the aisle, and she doesn’t look away from me. Not once.
Not at the guests. Not at the room. Just me.
Her gaze is steady.
By the time she reaches me and steps onto the stage, something in my chest has already shifted.
Fuck.
I have never met a braver woman. No. I have never met a braver person. The memory hits without warning—her fighting back that night the house was infiltrated, refusing to break even when she should have been overwhelmed. If she hadn’t been trained…she would have been dead before I got to her.
My jaw tightens. My chest follows.
I take her hand.
Turn toward the priest.
The ceremony begins.
It moves forward with quiet efficiency. Words are spoken. Vows are exchanged. Witnesses watch with the kind of understanding that doesn’t need to be explained aloud.
They know what this is.
An alliance.
A decision that will ripple far beyond this room.
And yet…there’s something else beneath it. Something less controlled. Less predictable.
Something real.
I hear my own voice as I speak the vows, steady, measured. I hear hers in return—clear, unwavering.
No hesitation.
