Page 107 of Violent God

He turns back to me. “Isa, I’m so fucking happy. We’re having a baby!”

“Yes, we are, which is why I willnotbe divorcing you. I love you, you dummy, and we’re going to make this marriage work.”

His gaze searches mine. “We can tear up the divorce papers if you agree to two things.”

“What are they?”

“One, you marry me again. A real wedding. Your dream wedding.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Done.”

“Two, I want you to keep your money in the account I set up.”

“Alessandro—”

“Hear me out, Isa.” I nod, so he continues, “Men have told you what to do for your entire life. I don’t want to be one of those men. I want to take care of you, but, more importantly, I want you to know that your money has nothing to do with why I’m with you. I want you to know that if, for some reason, this relationship doesn’t work out that you will be able to take care of yourself.”

“Don’t say things like that. We’re going to make this work.”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll rest better knowing you’re taken care of. So, do we have a deal?”

I smile up at him. “We have a deal.”

One week later, I’m about to walk down the aisle to marry Alessandro for the second time. This time is so different in so many ways. Alessandro asked me what my dream wedding looked like. When I was a little girl, it was something out of the movies I used to watch where the princess got the prince. As an adult, that dream looks a bit different now, which is why we’re getting married in one of the casinos here in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator.

Alessandro stands at the front of the tiny chapel, his all-black suit standing out against the white walls and the cherry red carpet. Brooks is at his side, smiling as I make my way down the aisle. Donna stands in the spot of the Maid of Honor, dressed in a light pink dress. My dress is white. Pure white. The top is fitted and the skirt flares, making me look like a princess while hiding my slight baby bump at the same time. When I reach Alessandro, he takes my hand, holding it tight.

Fake Elvis says, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

An hour later, Alessandro carries me from the elevator into our penthouse. I look around when he puts me on my feet.

“God, I’ve missed this place.

There’s a two-tier wedding cake on the dining room table with a note from Cheffy.

Welcome home, Mrs. Moretti

-Chef Antonio Stuart

I grin, spinning to Alessandro. “Cheffy told me his name!”

“He wanted to surprise you.” He grins. “Welcome home,Dolcezza.”

I turn to him, kissing him. He kisses me back until desire coils deep in my stomach. I press my hand against his chest when we pull away.

“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me move home until today.”

“I wanted to do things right this time, wife.”

I beam up at him. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I can forgive you. Now, will you take me to bed?”

Because I need to be with him.

“Not yet. I believe I promised showing you something a few months ago. Do you remember?”

“I do, but can’t it wait?”

“No. Come, my love.”

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