Page 12 of Claiming His Mafia Princess

“A five,” I say, “it’s fine. I’ll just make it work with my sneakers.”

“You are not a ‘runaway bride’” She shakes her head, “no, here I’m a five and a half, but these will do.” She kicks off her black Manolo’s and puts my high-top sneakers on her feet.

Oh well.

“Wait.” She says, stopping me. Riffling in her purse, she pulls out a coin and slips it in the shoe. “We don’t have all the borrowed and blue stuff, but I have the sixpence for your shoe. Tradition is important.” I swallow a lump in my throat.

“Thank you.” I mutter suddenly, more sentimental than I should be. “My shoes are borrowed.”

I always wanted to wear my mother’s pendant as my something old — and imagined my father giving me his blue pocket hanky as I got teary-eyed. This is nothing like I imagined, but Nevio is not the worst thing that could have happened to me.

She hands me a hairbrush and her make-up bag. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s in there, but I’m sure you can find enough to make yourself feel more bride-like.”

I take it from her and look inside. Selecting the soft pink lip gloss and the black mascara, waterproof, as if I am going to be bawling my eyes out, I do my makeup.

Her skin tone is almost similar to mine, similar enough that when I dab her concealer under my eyes, it looks like it belongs to me.

“My driver will take you, and Nevio is going to wait there.” Lucia is different from what I imagined her to be. She always seemed so bratty — I never expected her to be kind.

“This is very overwhelming,” I say, sitting on the bed, looking down at my feet. The coin under my foot getting warm and moving slightly when I wiggle my toes in the shoes that are just too big for me. “I think I need to call my brother.” I say, turning to look at my dead cell phone. I don’t have a charger, and never thought to ask Nevio when he was here earlier.

“Your brother is the one who arranged all of this, isn’t he?” Lucia asks, picking up her handbag and getting ready to leave.

“Yes.”

“Then trust him, he might even be there, at the church. Come on, we have to get going.” She walks towards the door and I jump up. “My brother will absolutely kill me if I get you to your own wedding late.”

Chapter Eight

NEVIO

The tuxedo fits snug against my body, the high collar shirt hiding at least most of my birthmark. When I lean my head forward, my thick shoulder length hair falls into my face, covering the rest of it. I’ve never been able to change my hair, because at this length it serves a purpose. It hides me, my markings, my sins, my defects. I lift my head up again and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

Brushing my fingers through my hair, I push it back out of my face. I turn my cheek so that the red mark is clearly visible in the reflection.

Dalila didn’t react the way I thought she would when she saw the full mark running over my shoulder and down my chest. When she traced the contour with her delicate, warm fingers, I didn’t know whether to push her away or pull her closer.

Right now, though, all I want to do is pull her closer.

I can’t believe I am marrying her today. Now. In the next hour.

I’m fully dressed, ready to leave, but just taking a moment to gather my thoughts and calm the weird nervous sensation drifting in my stomach. I’m getting married. Something I never thought I would have in this life.

Love, marriage, a wife - it’s not made for men like me.

But now that I suddenly have this chance, I want to prove to the entire world that they’ve been wrong about me. I have a heart. I can love.

I will prove it.

I turn away from the mirror and that monstrous reflection. Grabbing my phone, I shake my head and clench my jaw.

I hope Dalila can see through my skin, into my heart.

I hope she can, one day, see me.

I walk from the pool house towards my car parked in the driveway. Glancing up towards the bedroom window, I see shadows moving inside the house. The girls are still in there getting ready. They still have time. The church is close. But I want to get there early to make sure it’s safe.

The car bleeps twice as it unlocks and I pull the door open, sliding into the driver’s seat. I press the ignition button and it purrs to life beneath me.

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