Page 85 of Stolen By the Enemy

I think back to the night of her brother’s wedding and how I could have had all of this so much sooner if I hadn’t been thinking with my greed.

The only goal I have now is to make this life everything that Grazia hopes it will be.

I might not have everything that I wanted from the Baldinis, but ending up married to Grazia seems like a good enough deal.

Plus, with Grazia’s plan, we can make our own fortune, even without the trade routes.

She knows more than enough about the landscape of our work in the US, and even about the drug market, for us to take over a large portion of the product movement without actually overtaking the Baldinis.

Things are falling into place, I think to myself as I stare at the ring on Grazia’s hand.

There’s an odd feeling of protectiveness that I feel towards her now, wanting her to be as happy as she was last night and every day of her life from here on.

***

In my office, I sit listening to Grazia planning the wedding.

I am here to attempt to help, but we both know that I can’t really do much more than offer the money to pay for whatever she wants.

She has brilliant ideas already, and only needs a “yes” from me.

I want this to be a day she remembers as being full of love and worth all of the trouble I have caused her so far.

There will still be trouble in the future, just because of who I am. She doesn’t seem bothered about that, though, while she’s picking out flowers and colors and a cake flavor.

I’ve never seen myself doing a big and elaborate wedding, so there isn’t much that I can help with.

I gave her a couple Mexican songs to add to the playlist, and helped her with some traditions that we can do during the ceremony, but otherwise, she has put me in charge of the invites and getting guests to the wedding, so this is what I am doing.

Not that I have ever thought of myself as a designer, but these wedding invitations are not looking bad.

Grazia sketched the two of us together, since we don’t have any actual photos of us, and I’m not one for photoshoots. Then I used the computer to put it all together in a digital format.

We’ve decided that there’s no point in waiting too long, but I’ve given Grazia two months to plan things.

Until then, we’ll live in this house and get used to each other.

I’ll let her help me redecorate so that she feels more at home, and I’ll show her parts of Mexico that I know she’ll love.

I desperately want to fix her memories of this place —to take away some of the bad and replace it with good.

I’ve spoken to Carlos, and he’s so happy about a reason to celebrate with our family that we’re both ignoring all of the animosity that was between us just a few days ago.

I send out the invitations to Carlos, his family, and a few of the other men and women we work closely with.

This is my family, and despite their flaws, I know that they will show up for me and bless our marriage.

Then I send invites over to Luca and Enzo, not so sure that they will come, and doubting they will be blessing any part of this union.

Grazia has hope, though, that they will see that none of this was a grand scheme, and we really did just fall for each other when we least expected it.

So, I send the invites and I will let them decide whether their sister means enough to them to put their issues aside for a day and celebrate with her.

When that’s done, I scoop Grazia up and take her out for a drive to the beach.

This has become something we do almost every day, to decompress after whatever we’ve dealt with, and help keep us focused on the wedding and the good times.

I’ve arranged a few renovations and a full remodel on the beach house, so that when I take Grazia back there after we’re married, it won’t hold any of the old darkness from her time as a prisoner there.

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