Page 53 of Dark Mafia Bride

“Oh, of course,” Valentina interjects with a smooth, practiced charm, her gaze lingering on Mirabella with a polite curiosity. “But I think everyone would love to hear about the journey, Mirabella—the transition from a more private life to one that’s so…in the public eye. And stepping into this world of such prestige…it must feel like quite an adventure, yes?”

I know instantly that Zia Camilla’s hand is all over this, feeding Valentina the intrusive question. The insinuation hangs in the air, as sharp and as thin as a knife. I feel Mirabella’s grip on my hand tighten, her body going rigid beside me, and the fury boils up in me.

Before I can respond, Mirabella lifts her chin, her voice steady and calm. “It’s certainly a different world, but Ettore makes it feel like home.”

Her words are simple, yet defiant. But Valentina isn’t done.

“And do you worry, Mrs. Greco, about how others may perceive you?”

Mirabella’s lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “Not at all,” she replies, tilting her head. “What matters to me is how Ettore perceives me.”

I give her hand an appreciative squeeze, feeling a surge of pride. Valentina opens her mouth to ask another question, but I cut her off smoothly.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” I say to Valentina. “Tonight is about celebrating our love and nothing else. If you don’t have any worthwhile questions, perhaps you’d like to enjoy the party.”

Valentina’s surprise flickers only briefly before she regains her composure, her professional smile widening as she turns back to the camera.

“Well, there you have it, everyone—Ettore Greco and Mirabella Ricci, the latest couple capturing all our hearts,” she says with practiced warmth. “I’m Valentina Romano here withInside Societybringing you an exclusive look into tonight’s glamorous celebration. Stay tuned. We’ll be back with more highlights and interviews from this unforgettable evening.”

As we turn away, I look down at Mirabella, who’s still gripping my hand. “Are you okay?”

She glares up at me, a sarcastic smile plastered on her lips. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m marrying the man of my dreams, everyone here just adores me, and there’s zero public scrutiny to worry about. It’s everything I could wish for,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, a familiar voice booms through the crowd. “Ettore!”

I turn to see Dario approaching, a wide grin on his face, his arm slung around his wife Ginny. He claps me on the back as we exchange a quick hug. “Welcome to the marriage club, man.”

“Dario.” I smile, pulling back. “And as always, you look beautiful, Ginny,” I say, turning to his wife, who smiles warmly at us.

I glance at Mirabella, introducing her. “This is Dario, an old friend, and his wife Ginevra.”

Ginny steps forward, her warm smile extending to Mirabella as she pulls her into a hug. “Please, call me Ginny. And you look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you,” Mirabella replies softly, and I notice the tension in her shoulders start to ease.

I smile at Dario. “How are the twins?”

He laughs. “Running around somewhere with their nanny, causing trouble, no doubt.”

We chat briefly, catching up on family and small talk about the wedding. When they finally move along, I take Mirabella’s hand again. “Now, let me formally introduce you to the rest of the gang,” I say, guiding her toward the tables.

“When will this night finally end?” She groans under her breath, a polite smile still glued to her lips. She’s already getting really good at this.

“Soon, I promise.”

The reporters, the distant relatives, business associates, begrudging family and those who came purely for appearances—it all feels endless, and I’m ready for it to be over, too.

As we weave through the crowd, guests turn to greet us with warm smiles and polite nods. Eventually, we approach a small group gathered around a table decorated with lavish dishes and champagne. Vittorio spots us first.

“Well, if it isn’t the groom and his beautiful bride,” he calls out in a teasing tone, standing up and stepping over to us. Hepulls Mirabella into a hug, making her laugh. It’s a genuine, unguarded laugh—the first I’ve seen from her all night.

“So you’re the woman who managed to tame my brother,” he says, clearly amused.

I watch the scene with a mix of amusement and something deeper I can’t quite place. “Mirabella, meet my younger brother, Vittorio.” I turn to the table. “And these are my aunts—Zia Camilla, Francesca, and Marta,” I say, nodding to each of them, all watching Mirabella closely. “And my cousins Antonio, Leonardo, and Bianca.”

Mirabella’s voice is soft but warm as she greets them. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s our pleasure, Bella. I can call you Bella, can’t I?” Aunt Marta asks, her gaze lingering on Mirabella with open curiosity.

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