Page 14 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
That wasn’t an answer. I studied him, noting the way he tried to brush it off and make it seem like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. It meant something. To him. To his mother.
Maybe even to me.
His gaze softened slightly, and his expression changed. “You look beautiful.”
The words landed like a soft blow to my ribs.
I blinked.
Lorenzo wasn’t the type to say things just for the sake of it. He wasn’t the kind of man to throw compliments around. And yet, here he was, telling me I was beautiful.
A warmth spread through my chest, dangerous and unwelcome. I swallowed, shifting on my feet. “Thanks.”
His lips parted slightly like he was about to say something, but then he hesitated.
Then—
“I should’ve been here.”
I stiffened. His voice was quieter now, becoming heavier beneath it. It was a weight I didn’t know if I could bear.
“I should’ve been here years—”
“It’s nothing.” I cut him off too quickly—maybe too sharply.
Because I couldn’t do this.
Not now. Not when guilt was already clawing at my insides.
His jaw ticked. He wasn’t convinced. I forced another smile, lighter this time. “What, you thought I couldn’t handle myself without you?”
He smirked faintly, but his eyes stayed serious. “I know you can.”
Then he stepped back toward the door, hand resting on the frame.
Something in me clenched. He was leaving. This was the last time we’d see each other before standing at the altar, sealing this deal in front of everyone and pretending to be something we weren’t.
But then, his eyes met mine again, steady, unwavering.
“Fake or not,” he murmured, “I’ve always cared about you.”
The breath I had been holding left my lungs all at once. His gaze lingered a second longer like he was making sure I understood.
“See you at the altar, wife.”
And just like that, he was gone. Leaving me alone with a storm raging inside me.
*****
Five more minutes.
That’s what Luca had said. Five minutes, and then he’d be back to walk me down the aisle.
Or, as he so helpfully suggested, I could walk myself since it was a fake marriage anyway.
I twisted my fingers together, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress was perfect. It was white silk draped over my frame like it had been made for me.
I looked every bit the bride.
