Page 2 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

“I’m going to get a drink. This is bullshit.”

Now that Ana was finally worried, my concerned intensified. Franco was a mess, but I didn't think he'd be this messy, not after spending so much money and not after inviting all of his family from Italy.

He wouldn’t miss this day. He’d complained to me endlessly for months about the cost of the entire thing. There’s no way he would miss your wedding, I told myself.

I had to keep telling myself that.

Rico entered shortly after Ana, combing his hands through his hair.

“Hey Dahlia, Buon Giorno.”

He leaned in and kissed me on my right cheek and then my left. He betrayed no emotion behind his gaze. He ogled me as if I were a science experiment gone wrong and he was figuring out how to put me back together.

“What’s going on, Rico? Where’s Franco.”

Rico cleared his throat, “I dunno.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that. You’re the best man and you were just with him,” I hissed.

Franco was never late. Rico was a bad liar too and his cheeks flushed a deep burgundy color as he spoke to me.

“Don’t worry,” Rico replied, “Everything will be fine.”

“Don’t give me that, Rico,” I huffed, “Tell me where he is.”

Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, I glowered and picked up my phone. Franco had made me promise not to call and interrupt his job, but screw it. I'd deal with the consequences later.

I called Franco as I glared at Rico, urging him to stay still with a killer death stare. Franco didn’t pick up. I called again. No answer.

“Rico…Talk…” I said through grit teeth.

“Franco loves you, Dahlia," he said weakly.

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah. Whatever.”

When Rico didn’t leave the room after five minutes of uncomfortable silence, my heart raced in my chest. I thought he could hear my heart beat because he looked over at me with a confused look in his eye.

“What?”

“You’re staring,” he said.

“I’m supposed to get married in ten minutes and Franco isn’t here. I'm freaking out.”

If Ana's pills were supposed to stop me from freaking out, they weren't working. Sweat beaded at my browbone and my hair weighed heavily on my back, straining my spine.

Rico approached me and took his hand in mine.

“Dahlia, you are a beautiful woman. No man in his right mind would leave you on your wedding day.”

He let go of my hand and I pursed my lips, thankful that he’d tried to calm me down. Ana burst back into the room and dismissed Rico. I got the distinct sense they were guarding me, watching my every movement as if I was a flight risk.

I was here, wasn’t I?

I sat cinched up in an itchy wedding dress that forced me to clench in my stomach so tight that I could barely breathe. I'd been shuddering all day. I wore white heels so tall I could barely walk in them and enough makeup on my face to recycle into a floor to ceiling masterpiece.

“Ana, is he here yet?”

“Not yet,” she said.

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