Page 111 of Third Degree

“Ciao, Elio.” In front of me was Gianna’s mother. She looked so much like Gianna, it was crazy.

“Ciao, Amalia.” I gave her mom a kiss on each cheek before grabbing her suitcase and gesturing for her to come in. I took a quick look outside before I heard Amalia pipe up.

“I took an Uber. It is just me here.”

I nodded and brought her to the guest room.

“She will be very happy you are here,” I finally said, dropping the bag into the room and walking out.

“I am too. Thank you for inviting me and letting me stay here,” she offered.

“You will not make her feel bad, though. This is a time for celebration, yes?” I confirmed.

Making her intentions very clear, she nodded quickly, agreeing that there would be no arguing or discussions about us as a couple.

“Of course.” She kept nodding as I left the room for her to unpack.

It was a few hours later when I got the text from her guard that she was on the way back to the house. We were surrounded by all of our friends and family. The yard was completely transformed into a party inside our garden. There was a bar, a huge grazing table, and three large farmhouse tables for dinner, all under twinkling light canopies.

I stood at the front door, awaiting her arrival, and caught her giving me a sly side-eye.

Beautifulwould be an understatement to describe what I thought upon seeing her. She wore a white satin dress just above the knees, self-consciously covering the forming scars on her shoulder.

“What’s going on out here?” she asked with a hint of hesitation in her voice, glancing behind her where Tatum had disappeared. “And why are there so many cars?”

“Come inside,” I urged, reaching for her good arm and intertwining it with mine as we entered the house. A grand marquis sign greeted us with the words “I Do.”

Her voice trembled with anticipation and fear as she asked, “What is all this?”

“Just trust me,” I replied, captivated by her beautiful amber eyes. I wanted to get lost in them, to escape into a world of our own. Though throwing this party made me slightly anxious, knowing that Gianna wasn’t much of a party person, I wanted to make up for the missed celebration.

As we stepped into the backyard, our friends and family erupted with a resounding “Surprise!”

“Oh my God,” Gianna exclaimed, her delicate features reflecting sheer shock. “What is all this?”

“This, my love, is your wedding reception. We never had one, so I thought I’d give you the celebration you deserve.”

“What?” Her voice caught, revealing her emotional state.

“After everything you’ve been through these past months, I wanted to celebrate us,” I explained as applause filled the air. Tears streamed down Gianna’s face, reflecting a mix of joy and gratitude.

“There’s one more surprise,” I whispered.

“Of course there is,” she mumbled.

Taking a knee once again, I presented her with a small box, revealing a necklace with the initialMfor our last name.

Her eyes widened, and amid the gathering, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“I know it’s unconventional, with the reception happening first, but I want to ask for the honor of marrying you again. A redo ceremony, just the way you’ve always dreamed. No puffy dresses,” I proposed, my gaze fixed on her radiant face.

“No puffy dresses.” She laughed, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Never again.”

“Can we get married in Italy?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“We can do whatever you want. I would love to take you to Italy, amore,” I replied, my voice quivering with anticipation. She looked down and giggled.

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