Page 162 of Dirty Mafia King
Bastian is clearly surprised. “What the fuck do you mean, no?”
“No wedding,” Sandro firmly states, seconds before I say, “No means no.”
“Basta. How much did you two drink?”
I tap my toe against a full wine bottle, and it tumbles over.
Bastian drops his arm, and I immediately miss his warmth. “I’d like you and your brother present at the wedding.”
“No, Bastian,” I insist. “No wedding.”
“Um, Alessia,” Sandro says. “You want to be saying yes.”
“You’re an asshat, you know that? How quickly you cave …”
“Enough,” Bastian snaps.
I stop talking.
Sandro rolls his eyes.
“Tavern on the Green?” Bastian continues, relentless.
“Yes. Only the best for Alessia.”
“That’s right. Cancel the venue. I have something better in mind.”
I listen to the exchange, trying to keep up but alcohol slows my progress.
Bastian turns to me. “We’ll spend a few more days in Rome and you can shop for a new wedding dress.”
“A new dress? What happened to the old one?” Sandro asks.
“He ruined it when—”
Bastian scoops me up and hauls me over his shoulder.
“So, you love her.” It’s not a question Sandro asks, but a statement.
“Of course I goddamn love her.”
What? Wait? The room begins spinning.
“I love three people in this world; you, your Houdini-cloned brother, and her.” Bastian bounces me on his shoulder. “I never break my word. But I love her so fucking hard, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.”
His admission turns my world upside down.
He loves me.
Sebastiano Beneventi loves me.
“I love you, too, Bastian,” I fiercely declare.
He smacks my ass.
Sandro offers me thumbs-up as his father carries me away.
CHAPTER58
