Page 46 of King of the Bronx

He cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to see it before the ceremony. I’ll see you down there. Mother, will you bring it down to the alter when she’s done?”

“Of course.”

Once he left, I picked up the halo-shaped diamond and slid it on my finger. It was heavier than it looked. It would be a constant reminder of the vows we were about to share.

“It’s gorgeous,” Elizabeth said.

“It is,” I agreed. I took the ring back off and placed it back in the box. Elizabeth bent down to kiss my forehead before leaving the room with my ring.

The stylist finished getting me ready. When he finished, I felt like a princess. My makeup was done perfectly, and my hair was twisted up in a curly updo. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in the window. A knock sounded at the door before Cal peaked his head in.

“They’re ready for you.”

It was kind of silly to think about, how we got dressed up for only three people. Grabbing the skirt of my dress so it didn’t drag on the floor, I followed Cal downstairs to the living room. The entire wall was actually a door that opened up to the backyard. Enzo stood next to a big maple tree, underneath an altar. His suit fit perfectly across his broad shoulders. His hair was combed back, and it looked soft, like I could easily run my hands through it. An older man stood next to Enzo with the Bible in his hand. Elizabeth turned around in her seat and gave me a big smile.

Cal cleared his throat and handed me a bouquet of red and white flowers.

“Thank you.”

Music started to play—that was my cue. I dropped the skirt of my dress, gripped the bouquet in my hands, and started the walk to my husband. I walked alone, but I wasn’t sad about it. If anything, it was a statement. No one was giving me away. All of this was my choice, even though it didn’t feel like it. I didn’t need someone else walking me down the aisle to give me away to the man that stood at the end. As I got closer to Enzo, there was a softness to his expression that I’d never seen before. He wasn’t on guard like he usually was. For the first time, he actually looked relaxed. He took my hand as I stepped up to the altar and stood across from him. His eyes roamed over my body, taking in the dress that hugged my curves and the makeup that had been perfectly applied.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

I smiled at him and the priest cleared his throat. “Ready?”

Enzo nodded. “We’re ready.”

The ceremony was quick. We repeated the vows that the priest told us to. Then, we went back into the house. It all felt kind of anti-climactic, almost like it wasn’t real. I didn’t feel any different as Enzo poured me and his mother a glass of wine and set it in front of us at the small table in the kitchen.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll take this outside. I’m leaving in the morning and I want to enjoy Italy for a bit longer.” Elizabeth excused herself and Enzo took her spot.

I lifted the glass up to my lips and took a sip. All of this was so out of character for me. If someone had told me a couple months ago that I’d be sitting in a mansion in Italy drinking wine across from my husband, I would have laughed in their face.

“What are you thinking about?” Enzo asked, taking a sip of what looked like cognac.

“This all feels…unreal. I never really imagined getting married.”

“Me neither.”

“Yeah?”

He took another sip before placing the glass down on the table. “My mom has been pestering for years to find someone. I never thought I would.”

“But this isn’t really a conventional marriage. I mean, this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the trouble I’m in.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not, but we’re still married, and I expect this to be treated like any other marriage.”

“What are you trying to say?” I ask.

His eyes narrowed on me. “I’m not sharing you with anybody.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. It’s not like I was getting sex regularly before I hooked up with Enzo. Lots of men had mistresses, and Enzo probably had his fair share of women in the past.

“I want the same from you—”

“You don’t even have to ask that.”

I took a sip of my wine. “What about after you buy the brothel?”

If he was going to buy the brothel like he planned, then what would that mean for us? Would we just keep playing house or would I go back to my old life?

His jaw twitched like he was annoyed by the question. “You’ll still be my wife.”

“But—”

“But nothing. When you said those vows, you agreed to spend your life with me. You can do what you want with the brothel, but we’re partners now, and we have a lot more businesses than yours to consider. We will run our businesses like king and queen, and you will come home to me every night.”

We sat in silence as I allowed his words to sink in. Our marriage was necessary for him to buy the brothel, but I realized it wasn’t just a step in the process. I made a commitment to him, to love him in sickness and in health, rich and poor. We were partners now in business but also in life. His eyes bore into mine, waiting for a response.

“Okay.”

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