Page 94 of Savage Bratva King

“So, how did you convince him?”

“My sister said that if Xander killed you, I would never see her again, and I issued the same ultimatum to my husband.”

“She said that?” My pulse is racing. Melissa’s voice has softened during our conversation; she believes me, and with her on our side… Anything is possible.

“I need his word that he won’t try to stop me from marrying Gianna.”

“I’ll make sure that you get it.”

“There is one more condition. If we’re to reach some kind of truce, I need him to deliver the mole back to me.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Her smile is genuine. She looks as if she wants to shake my hand or stand on tiptoes and kiss my cheek but can’t risk getting too close because we’re being watched. “One more thing, if you ever hurt my sister, you’ll have me to deal with, and I promise you Xander’s vendetta will be nothing compared to what I’ll do to you.”

Melissa walks back to the car.

Before she reaches it, the rear passenger door opens, and Gianna is running towards me. She launches herself into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist.

I kiss her. I don’t care who is watching, or who sees it as a sign of weakness. I kiss her and whisper over and over, “I love you, my printzessa. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

29

GIANNA

I awoketo an overcast sky and wishy-washy light filtering through the windows of Leo’s bedroom, but now… Now it feels as if the universe is smiling down on us with big, wide-mouthed sunshine, coating everything in a fine golden film of fairy dust.

“Fairy dust?” Mel peers at my reflection in the mirror from over my shoulder, her mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, along with ‘Has anyone fed the dogs?’ and ‘I can see my nipples through this dress.’ For what it’s worth, I can’t see your nipples, so I don’t know what you’re looking at.”

I stare at my breasts in the mirror.

The vintage dress is floaty and ethereal with an ivory lace train over a cream-colored silk skirt studded with tiny gray-white pearls. I knew what I wanted—I had an image of it in my head from a fairy tale that I remember reading when I was a little girl—but it was Mel who helped me find it by trawling through every vintage boutique in Chicago until our legs ached and I had blisters on the soles of my feet.

It’s perfect.

Mel, as my matron of honor, is wearing another vintage dress with a scooped neckline and layers of frothy antique-ivory lace spilling from the waistband. She looks perfect too. Like a princess.

Mel has piled my hair on top of my head and fastened it with strings of pearls to match those on the dress, with long twisty curls framing my face. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful, Gi.” Mel lowers her face so that our cheeks are touching, and her reflection smiles back at me. “Positively glowing.”

She’s right. My cheeks are rosy, my skin has a sheen that reflects the sunshine through the windows giving me an almost angelic appearance, and my hair is glossier than I’ve ever seen it. I mean, it’s been polished and curled to within an inch if its life by Mel, but I look like I belong on the cover of a magazine.

I can’t believe I’m marrying Leo today.

Every time I think about the Japanese pagoda covered in rose petals, my stomach clenches, and every part of my body squeals silently with joy.

“How did you convince Xander to attend the wedding?”

“I told him that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t get to touch me for the next twelve months.”

“And he believed you?” I grin at her in the mirror.

“He’s a man. He couldn’t risk not taking me seriously.” She arches her eyebrows and slants her eyes mischievously. “Not when I started moving my stuff into one of the guest rooms.”

“Mel! You sly fox!”

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