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We watch him waddle into the back room and when he returns a minute later, he’s carrying a small black velvet box. The moment he opens it, I know. And when Gabriella sucks in a sharp breath, she confirms that we’re both on the same page.
“Oh, my,” she whispers, almost reverently, as Alfonso lifts the ring out of its velvet bed and hands it to her. I watch as she slips it on her finger and sighs. It fits perfectly.
“It’s an emerald-cut diamond set in a delicate rose gold halo that is decorated with art-deco inspired milgrain detail.”
“How many carats?” I ask, getting down to business.
“Over four.”
I nod and ask him about the cut, color and clarity, too. Once the four C’s are covered, I’m satisfied that this is a very precious and rare diamond. Just like Gabriella is precious and rare to me. I watch as she shifts her hand this way and that way, allowing the diamond facets to catch the light, completely enamored by it. “What do you think, Bri?”
“It’s stunning,” she murmurs.
“That’s the one, Alfonso. We’ll take it,” I declare.
“Oh, Enzo, it’s so beautiful.” Gabriella turns and throws her arms around my neck, kissing me hard on the mouth. She pulls back and I swear, I see stars in her eyes. I’m sure I have a whole galaxy of them in mine, too, shining right back at her.
“I love you, Bri, and I want to marry you as soon as possible.”
She nods, eyes suddenly swimming with tears. “Yes, please,” she murmurs, and we both laugh.
We both mean it and exactly two weeks later, I’m standing on the altar of St. Michaels and barely able to draw in a full breath because I’m so damn nervous. I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my black pants then tug on my tie which suddenly feels like it’s choking me.
“You’ve got this, bro,” Angelo says encouragingly. He’s standing directly beside me and next to him is Vin and then Miceli. They’re all my best men and trying to calm me down. “But keep yanking at your tie like that and you’re going to choke yourself.”
My asshole brothers all chuckle, looking cool as cucumbers.
“I don’t know,” Miceli comments. “You’re looking a little pale, Enzo.”
“Scared she’s going to run out on you?” Vin asks teasingly.
“Christ, don’t even say that,” I growl and rake a hand through my hair.
“No swearing before the altar of God,” Father Piero reprimands me.
“Sorry, Father,” I murmur and swallow hard. I’ve attended and spoken at the biggest meetings, in front of the largest crowds; I’ve dined with royalty; and, I’ve rubbed elbows with celebrities and other famous people. But I’ve never, in all my life, been this insanely nervous.
Looking out over the small group of family and friends in the first few pews, I see smiles and reassuring faces. Carlotta is grinning from ear to ear and she gives me a little wave. Beside her sits Alessia holding baby Nico. A very pregnant Hannah seems to be getting bigger every day and I can’t help but think about Gabriella and how she’s also carrying our baby right now. I love that my brothers’ kids and mine will get to grow up together. I’m sure they’ll be close and raise all kinds of hell.
My gaze moves down the row, pausing on our assistants. Marco and Trista seem to be getting along really well. More than well, actually. Hmm. I’ll have to remember to ask Gabriella what’s going on with them. I notice that Leo Amato, Miceli’s friend and bodyguard, is whispering something to Gia DeLuca, Alessia’s older sister. They’ve been getting extremely close lately and she helped him recover from a bullet wound last year. Gia flushes prettily and playfully pushes Leo’s arm. Even though they’re keeping their relationship quiet, it’s pretty easy to see the love in their eyes. I’m damn happy for them, too.
Even my parents flew in for the event. Salvatore and Carmela Rossi spend most of their time in Sicily, living on the family vineyard, but since they didn’t see Miceli or Vin get married, they were determined to be here for my wedding. Now, they’re front and center, holding hands and still in love after thirty years of marriage. It’s amazing to see and I hope to be just like them in thirty or so years.
The moment the music starts, my heart drops into my stomach. I clear my throat and turn my attention to the back of the church where Lili appears. She holds a basket of flower petals and tosses them as she makes her way up the aisle.
As pretty as Lili looks today, my gaze moves right past her, searching out my bride. The music shifts to the Wedding March and, the moment she appears, I suck in a sharp breath. Gabriella has never looked so beautiful and I watch her slowly walk toward me, her arm laced through her mother’s, looking like an absolute vision in white.
The dress is sleeveless and hugs her curves. There’s satin, there’s lace, there are endless pearl buttons. I don’t know anything about wedding dresses, but I do know that this one couldn’t be any more perfect and she looks like an angel. Soft, light pink flowers are scattered through her upswept hair and she’s holding a bouquet of pink peonies. At least, that’s what Carlotta called them. I don’t know much about flowers, either. Give me stocks any day. Dresses and flowers? Well, I’m lost.
The moment Gabriella and her mother reach the altar, they hug. Then Ariana hands my beautiful bride over to me and I pull her up the stairs so we’re standing side by side. I can’t drag my eyes off her.
“You look so beautiful,” I whisper.
“So do you,” she whispers back, and we squeeze hands.
“Let us begin,” Father Piero says.
I’m so lost in Gabriella, gazing into her caramel-colored eyes, that I barely register what Father Piero is saying. At some point, though, we place the wedding bands on each other’s fingers and recite our vows, promising to love each other forever. I honestly never thought I would say “I do” and here I am.
