Page 71 of Captive Mafia Wife

With the dress's high neckline, the necklace is a stunning work of art that will rest just below my collarbone. An asymmetrical design, three tear-drop-shaped pieces, growing in size as they move to the side, each studded with brilliant diamonds. The earrings match perfectly, with three teardrops increasing in size as they waterfall down.

The pieces must be collectively encrusted in thousands of diamonds.

Holy Green Hills of Scotland. The man has robbed the Crown Jewels. I stare into the box, breathless. “This cannot be for me.”

Sabrina, here only for the night, says, “Oh, girl, there ain’t no other woman in Inverness those diamonds are meant for. Let me put those on you before one of these thirsty gals steals them and runs you off the altar.” She leans over, closing the clasp of the necklace.

I stare in the mirror and feel lovely. I thank everyone, accepting their careful hugs as they congratulate me without wrinkling the dress. I wonder when he could have bought the jewelry, and like the engagement ring, I let it be his secret.

Morven escorts me downstairs.

As I enter the ballroom, I am struck by its transformation. Our renovations gave the wood a gleaming shine and the white walls a pristine condition. The grand space was empty but has now been dressed up for the ceremony.

My matron of honor and witness, Morven, squeezes my arm in triumph. "Told you!" she whispers in my ear.

"You were right," I reply, in awe of the scene before me. Twinkling lights and gauzy tulle drape from the rafters, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. Lavender ribbons hang in broad arcs, tied in large, elegant bows. White paper bags line the floor, weighed down with sand and filled with battery-operated candles. Their gentle glow leads toward a simple arch adorned with the same sparkling tulle and ribbons. At the end of the aisle stands the Frisque family's minister, who has traveled from France to officiateour ceremony.

The same man who performed Fredrick’s mother’s funeral. I thought having some connection to her today would be good for him.

I take a deep breath, feeling emotionally overwhelmed as I walk toward the arch. This is the moment I have been fighting against for months with him, then had weeks of daydreaming about it. Now, I can hardly believe that it is happening.

As I reach the arch to wait for my soon-to-be husband, I can't help but give Morven a parting smile, silently thanking her. She was right—this was the perfect space for our ideal moment.

The minister extends his hand for a handshake; I feel my nerves build up. "Mademoiselle," he says with a charming smile.

My giggle betrays my unease, the weight of his words suddenly sinking in. "Madame Frisque soon... I suppose."My mind reels with the implications.

He reassures me with a kind smile. “A lovely Mrs. Frisque you will be.”

“Thank ye.” Inside, I’m a tangled mess of nerves and worry, wondering if I’m making the right choice, if I’m getting cold feet, or— My circle of thoughts closes.

Fredrick walks into the room.

All my uncertainty melts away as he breezes down the aisle toward me, looking stunning in his black tux and beaming at me the entire way.

By the time he reaches the end of the aisle, joining us at the altar, I all but collapse in his arms.“You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He holds me, stroking my hair, his touch instantly calming me. “And you’re here. And that’s all that matters at this moment.”

The minister clears his throat. “Mr. Fredrick. It’s been a while.”

Fredrick looks up, placing the voice with the man it belongs to. “Monsieur, you’ve come all this way?”

“Oui.” He nods my way. “Your beautiful wife requested me.”

“I thought you’d want a piece of home here today,” I say, hoping he’s happy I’ve taken this liberty. A slow smile eases over his face, allowing me relief. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He squeezes my hands. “Thanks. Thanks so much.”

Everything moves away as if the room and everyone in it melt away behind me; even the minister is only a voice floating between us as we stare into each other’s eyes, smiling. We say our vows to one another. We slip thick silver bands onto one another’s fingers.

And then he takes my face in his hands, brings me close, and we kiss. This kiss, the first after saying our vows, feels like a seal around our promises. The cheers from our staff, Pearl’s clapping hands and gleeful laugh, bring me back to the moment, to the room, the ground now solid beneath my feet.

We eat slabs of vanilla buttercream cake, washing it down with hot tea and coffee, and feed wee bites to our lavender-dressed flower girl, who has no job other than stealingthe show.

Tavish, recently recruited for Inverness security, enters the room. All the young, single female staff members turn to watch him walk. The man is gorgeous, lean and pantherlike, owning the air they all breathe as he leans down to whisper in Fredrick’s ear.

Fredrick’s face changes.

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