Page 15 of Claiming His Mafia Princess

I climb out of the car, and she hands me a small velvet box. “It’s from my brother.”

I open the lid and stare down at the most beautiful bracelet glittering in the light.

Lucia glances over the lid. “Oh, wow.” She lifts it out of the box. “Give me your hand. It’s something new, so we have almost all of it.” Clipping it onto my wrist, she smiles as she admires it. “It’s gorgeous. Ok, let’s go. It’s time.” She does a little wiggle, like a happy dance. I stop myself from rolling my eyes because all of this seems so fucking ridiculous. But another glance down at the bracelet makes me smile.

He is trying to make this special and I really appreciate that.

I take a deep breath, pulling the tight white dress down slightly so my ass cheeks don’t hang out in the back.

Lucia pushes a bunch of flowers into my hands and stands on her tiptoes to clip a veil in my hair, then pulls it over my face.

I close my eyes for a moment while she fusses about.

It’s going to be ok, Lila. It’s going to be ok. This isn’t what you ever pictured when you thought of getting married one day - but - it’s - going - to - be - ok. I force each word into my brain. Making myself calm down, pushing the anger, confusion and worry away.

When I open my eyes again, I feel better.

I really am good and numbing myself.

“Ok, let me go into the church, then wait five seconds and come in.” Lucia says, then takes my hand and pulls me to the top step. With one last glance at me, she disappears into the church.

I count in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Take a deep breath.

Four.

Open your eyes.

I step into the church. The change in light from the bright natural light outside to the darker, orange candle lit glow of this massive space makes me blink a few times, waiting for my eyes to adjust so that I can see more clearly. The veil isn’t helping either.

I trust my feet for the first few seconds and walk.

Then I see Nevio, standing at the altar, his hands clasped in front of him, his shoulders back. His face is stone serious as he watches me, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

His eyes bore into me like a blade, piercing through the veil into my soul.

I chew at my lip nervously as I keep walking towards him.

Stopping in front of him, I hear the priest clear his throat. It echoes in the very empty, massive space. Bouncing off the high ceilings and along the stained glass windows.

When he speaks, I jump a little.

“Are we ready?” he says, his voice old and scratchy. I glance towards him, his wrinkled face and grey hair — but he has a warm smile.

“Ready.” I say.

Nevio steps towards me and slowly lifts my veil.

Now I can see his face more clearly and I find it impossible to look away from him. It’s as though he has me tied to his gaze. Inescapable blue eyes. Piercing and bright.

We exchange vows and I’m on autopilot. I keep fiddling with the flowers in my hands. My fingers tugging at the leaves around the base of their stems.

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