Page 149 of Their Princess

I would have a big fight with my father about the dress and the tattoo and everything else that proved that I was my own person after being cast out of the family. Honestly, I had morefreedom with the MC than with my father, an unimaginable notion. But I wasn’t about to give it up now that I’d tasted it.

Graff checked over his shoulder at me, and he was smiling. He really liked this dress too; I could see it in his artist’s eye. Thankfully, his earbuds likely muffled the small spat Mamà, Cat, and I were having.

“Your father wants the perfect wedding for you,” said my mother.

I snorted as I stepped down from the dais in front of the three large mirrors. “Why would he care? He basically railroaded Sas for not marrying me sooner. Without anyone from the family there.”

Mamà prattled on, still intent on ignoring my comments. “He has the best wedding planners working on it.”

“And stealing flowers and things from other weddings?” I asked, quirking a brow.

Mother laughed musically. “Never. He’s paid for a master florist to be flown in from Spain. Only the best for his little princess.”

Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Do you think the wedding planners took any ofmyideas?”

At the time, I hadn’t cared about the wedding or what I wore or how it looked. However, things were changing.

“I don’t think the planners used your flower suggestion,” said Mamà, a note ofI can’t believe you would even suggest thatin her voice.

“Was the belladonna too much?” I asked, saying it loudly enough to cut through Graff’s music.

By the way his shoulders moved, he heard. His face was pointing away from me again, but I thought he was laughing.

“Your grandmother would’ve liked it,” Mamà said dryly.

“I know.”

“I think belladonna is kinda tacky,” inserted Caterina. “Come on, Lina. You were just trying to make it difficult because you didn’t want to marry the biker, so you went in and put a bunch of crap on your list. But you’ll have a very beautiful wedding. I’ve talked with the planners myself.”

“You have?” Mamà and I asked at the same time.

I didn’t need to yell at my sister when our mother narrowed her gaze on Caterina and then stomped over, already speaking quickly in a low tone. And in Italian.

Cat rocked back in the chair, finally turned off her cell phone. Fear was etched into her face, and she shot me a helpless look. I wasn’t saving her now; she was the one who had gotten herself into this situation.

“I’m going to change,” I said, walking away from my sister and mother.

When I came out of the dressing room again, now back in my normal clothes and ignoring the other wedding dresses I had picked out, my mother was in another dressing room with her mother-of-the-bride dress and Caterina was unsupervised. My younger sister stood close to Graff, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and giggling loudly. I recognized that laugh from the hundreds of times she had used it to flirt with our father’s colleagues and capos or with random guys when we went to the clubs.

She was young and foolish—and it was just a game to her—but hot jealousy rushed through my veins. Especially as Graff smiled down at her, polite and forced, but that was still my smile. His face was mine.

“Caterina,” I snapped, and she whipped around, jutting out her chin like she was ready for a fight.

We were close, but even the closest sisters fought. I forced my voice into a soft tone and said, “It’s your turn to try on dresses.”

“Mom will find something she likes for me,” said Cat and then turned back to Graff.

“How about you choose a couple?” I offered. “I want you to feel pretty in it as my maid of honor.”

“You know my choices won’t make it past her,” whined Caterina, and Graff looked away. My sister was acting like a child, and while I had been called a brat—many times—I didn’t pout like her.

“She’ll allow the dress you choose if I say I like it,” I said. I wasn’t sure I believed my lie, but Caterina couldn’t pass it up. “Anyway, if you’re standing at my side, I need your dress to match.”

Caterina grinned up at Graff, who stiffened, but undaunted, she purred, “Can you help me with my dress?”

“No,” I said quickly, and Caterina groaned. “He cannot because he is here to keep watch over us. He’s working.”

Still Caterina didn’t move.

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