“Thank you.” I take it into the room with me, having to close the door by lightly kicking it. “Present has arrived,” I announce, heading their way.

“Indeed you are,” Luciano murmurs, his irises blazing as he stares at me. I’m not generally bashful, butthis man, along with Santino, seems to make me blush at the drop of a hat. He takes the bag from me, hanging the metal hook over the top of the bathroom door so it remains wrinkle-free.

“I can’t believe you had time to find me a second dress,” Mischa comments, moving to stand in front of the garment bag.

“I didn’t. I had it made for you.”

Her mouth drops open as she flashes him a stunned glance, then immediately reaches for the zipper. She tugs one side of the bow so it releases while unzipping the remainder with her other hand. Once it’s open, Luciano pushes the bag to the side, bringing the massive dress forward and fluffing it out so we can get a good look at the mass.

“Oh my God,” Mischa whispers. Her eyes light up, “I-it’s camouflage?”

I can hear it in her voice—she’s shocked, and I have to concentrate not to laugh loudly. It’s not my sister’s taste at all, and the last thing I’d ever expect from Luciano, but I will say one thing… it’s beautiful.

“Sì, a custom camo dress, big and poufy, fit for you,princessa. Me and Santino are soldati, mafioso soldiers… so I felt it appropriate to present you with something in camo. I’d hoped you’d indulge us later for dancing and some photos or maybe on a honeymoon, but now, perhaps it can be your wedding dress instead?”

He’s nervous.

Luciano, the man who seems cool as a cucumber whenever I’m around him, actually seems like he’s concerned Mischa will turn him down. He doesn’t know my sister, though.

“It’s not what I was expecting, but I absolutely love it. I wanted a big dress like this. I wanted it to be sorta ridiculous, but I think you already knew as much by the dresses I was asking to try on at the shops. For the color, I was going for mint to make a point in our photos, to taunt the Irish. This, well, it’sso much better.”

We both grin.

She beams a wide smile before admitting, “The last Vendetti was married in blood red, but red has nothing on a camouflage ballgown.”

Chapter 10

The journey to healing gets dark far before it gets beautiful. - alamir

Santino

Abreath leaves meas I stand at the makeshift altar, waiting for my fidanzata to join me. “I should check on her,” I mutter to mio fratello for the third time. We’re being stared at by everyone waiting for the ceremony to officially begin, and it’s damn uncomfortable. Our guest list is small in comparison to the many weddings I’ve attended, but it’s still enough people to make me twitchy under their prying eyes. We’re private people, and anytime one of us exchanges vows or has a lavish party, it makes me uneasy. Besides, our wedding was planned at the drop of a hat, with no advance notice to give anyone for safety reasons, so where in the hell did all these people come from?Matteo says we need to have witnesses so the news will spread like wildfire through the many underground connections and reach our enemies, but the customary image and announcement we put out should suffice, I’d think.

In the end, it’s all about a show of force. A union that brings the Empire one step higher, and in doing so makes our famiglia a bit more untouchable to all of our enemies. Matteo has already made it known to us that he plans on arranging his daughter’s future marriage to the Russians, but bringing Mischa and Rorik in now will only make our ties to the various Russian crime organizations that much stronger in the coming years. Not only that, but our businesses will become stronger, and in doing so, make us even richer.

Dante shakes his head, “No. Luciano handled it, and they’re all fine. I went outside and saw for myself, just like I told you I would. The guy’s not breathing; hell, he probably lost half his blood supply with the deep gashes our fratello made. Mischa and Rorik are both okay, and they will all be here soon.”

“It doesn’t feel right, letting them get attacked and not at least checking in.”

He shoots me a glare, but it’s his typical moody assholeness from him so I’m unfazed. While other people may quake in their boots over his bulky, broody presence, I grew up with it, so I’m more than used to him. “Still can’t believe both of you are getting married on the same day. Should’ve made Matty spring for two weddings,” he grumbles, and it makes me chuckle.

“Nah, so long as he gives us two honeymoons, I’ll be good.”

He snorts, “Yeah, fucking right. This is Matteo we’re talking about. Where would you even go? Milan for Luc? No fuckin’ way our Capo is letting you go that far with shit blowing up all around us.”

The priest clears his throat, and I immediately meet his gaze. “Excuse our language, Father.”

“We’re not in the Lord’s Temple, my sons, no need to apologize.” Of course he’d say that; he knows exactly who my famiglia is. I still have enough respect to feel embarrassed when a man of the cloth hears us speak like a bunch of classless heathens. This man, in particular, has been around long enough, I can remember him baptizing Cristiano.

Luciano finally arrives and strolls up the aisle as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I know my brother, better than anyone, and he’d most likely be clutching his chest, not able to breathe right now if it weren’t for the drama distracting him. Killing someone was exactly what he needed to focus on what’s important today. Uniting our families. Nothing in the world is more important to a Vendetti than famiglia. Luciano takes his place beside me, as his back will be to mine as we exchange our vows.

The piano echoes throughout the ballroom, immediately drawing attention, and everyone in attendance shuts their mouths as we turn our collective stares to the doorway. I can’t help but glance at everything but the actual doorway. I’m notnervous to marry the beautiful woman; I’m just razzed from the danger they were all in, and I wasn’t there to kill the pezzo di merda.

Exhaling, I release a pent-up breath and take in the ballroom’s transformation. There are flowers everywhere in mint and white, along with dark greenery to complement, and then there are nearly see-through materials reminding me of gauze, hanging in various places. It looks and feels like a real wedding—fancy, even. I don’t know how Vi pulled it off, but with our other sisters-in-law, it seems they’re capable of just about anything. Not that I’d ever doubt Violet Vendetti’s will in any way. She proved to us many years ago she belongs on the throne next to mio fratello. I love Vi; she’s been a close friend and now a sister, ever since she arrived at the Estate and I saw her fire.

I tug at my cuffs, clearing my throat, and take in the setup against the far walls. One side has several tables dressed in heavy linens with extravagant centerpieces surrounded by flutes for champagne and any other wine our guests may want. There are a few small bars at the back of the room for all other drinks, and on the opposite side, there are table after table of elaborate finger foods surrounding our massive wedding cake. I swear Matteo needs to give our chef a raise. The woman has been with us since she graduated from culinary school in France and has been spoiling us ever since.

Dante kicks the side of my shoe, and my gaze shoots to his. He sends me a glare, silently telling me to pay attention, and flicks his chin to make me look. There’s a long velvet carpet leading to me that I take in first, my gaze climbs higher just as there’s an audible gasp by the guests. I immediately seek her out and amstunned, but also not, as I take in the poofy, princess-style dress made out of a lacy type of camouflage material. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought she was wearing mint, and it was the whole point of all the ‘accent’ colors? Did something happen to her other dress? I swear, if she was hurt and Luciano didn’t tell me, I’m going to lose it.