Page 87 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

"I heard his wife's a famous designer. That dress she's wearing—she designed it herself. It's gorgeous."

"Let's go congratulate them!"

I wore the dress I designed, stood beside Dante, belly high and round. The late pregnancy shape meant the waistline got altered three times. But Dante said I was the most beautiful bride he'd ever seen in this world.

Below, Maggie cried until her eyes turned red, kept dabbing with tissues. Lucia stood beside her, couldn't help tearing up too. Alfredo stood in the crowd, that perpetually stern face showing a rare hint of a smile.

The old priest stood under the flower arch, asked the same question he'd asked years ago. "Dante Moretti, do you take this woman to be your wife, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"

Different from the first time—this time Dante didn't hesitate, didn't go silent.

"I do." He said it.

The priest turned to me. "Elena, do you take this man..."

"I do." I didn't even let him finish.

The guests laughed. Dante laughed too. He lowered his head, pressed a kiss to my lips. Light, but solemn.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The old priest looked at us kindly. "The groom may kiss the bride."

In the cheers, Dante took my hand, led me toward the end of the flower arch. Belly out, I walked slowly. He matched my pace, walked steadier than ever.

"Elena." He suddenly called my name quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Last time, you waited for me at the wedding. Waited a long time." He said. "This time, I'll wait for you. I'll keep waiting, walk every road ahead with you."

I squeezed his hand tight, looked at our intertwined fingers, that blue diamond ring refracting scattered light in the sun.

"Then it's settled," I said. "From now on, we walk together."

Dante didn't answer. Just tightened his grip, wrapped my whole fist inside his palm.

His palm was warm. Like June sunshine.

I stood beside him, belly out, wearing the dress I designed, surrounded by everyone's blessings, smiling toward what lay ahead.

Ahead was the long future. The studio we'd renovated together. My new brand. Our child about to be born. Every day we had coming.

Dante and I both finally understood—we couldn't live without each other.

The future stretched long. But we'd walk into it together.

Epilogue

Elena

Not long after the wedding, my due date arrived.

Three days before it, I checked into the hospital's most luxurious private room. I ate well, rested well, gathering my strength for what was coming.

Dante was more nervous than I was. During the day, he could at least sit on the sofa and handle paperwork. But at night, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, he'd just give up, sit up, turn on the bedside lamp, and stare unblinking at my belly.

"What are you doing?" I opened my eyes, unnerved by his staring.

"Watching your belly. In case the baby decides to come in the middle of the night." Dead serious.