“You may now kiss the bride.”
I turned to my newly minted husband. Matteo looked dashing in an Italian suit. He reeled me in, his mouth sealing over mine before his tongue demanded entry between my lips. We ignored our Elvis officiant, his assistant, and the other two people in the room, Nico and Ivy.
When he released me, I was breathless.
I’d been breathless since this morning when we ditched the family, headed straight to La Guardia, and flew to Vegas. Matteo had his brother bypass their private jet to avoid alerting any of the De Luccis, and we all traveled first class via commercial plane.
“Pictures!” Ivy yelled.
Matteo stiffened. And my friend rolled her eyes. “Not posting on Pixygram. Especially since Sera is not wearing any Donateka.”
“Just as well.”
Ivy wasn’t pleased with the elopement and it had nothing to do with me not wearing their label. She thought I deserved more. More time. More wooing. Just everything more. I did assure her there would be a second wedding. One she could plan for me if she wanted. That appeased her a bit. And it might come sooner given the nature of my family and his. When it came to weddings, no one skipped tradition.
We did the standard pose: my arm tucked into Matteo’s elbow.
“This is beautiful. Oh my God, I take back what I said. You two are too gorgeous not to share. This is what social media is made for. Can I at least post it to my story?”
“Well…” I glanced up at Matteo.
His jaw hardened. “Fine.”
Nico butted in, “Just leave me out of it.”
Ivy glared at him. “I wouldn’t want to pollute my brand.”
Nico clenched his jaw and hung back while Ivy resumed her post-wedding coverage.
These two.
Matteo was adamant not to put our Elvis wedding on social media, but when Ivy was not her cool, collected self, she was tenacious and hard to deny. Besides, I think Matteo’s pushback had more to do with his jealousy of Daniel, and since I wasn’t wearing anything related to Donateka, he just needed a little nudge to give in.
After a few more pictures, we got into the limo and headed to dinner.
“I’m starving,” I told Matteo.
“Here, let’s pop the champagne,” Nico said.
“Matteo…” Ivy looked up from her phone. “I think your sister just followed me.”
He chuckled and slid out his phone. “Are we ready to face the messages and calls?”
Ivy handed me mine which I’d set on airplane mode since our flight out of La Guardia.
“What exactly did you tell everyone?” I asked Nico.
“Not to expect us for dinner.”
We all laughed, although mine was starting to edge closer to hysteria than excitement.
Since the moment we arrived in Vegas, it had been a blur. Ivy and I went wedding dress hunting. Not a gown, but more of a short skirt with a long train. I was thrilled with the offerings of the shops Ivy had googled on the plane. This was one place where Donateka didn’t have a boutique, and I could feel my friend’s brain speculating.
The guys went to an Italian boutique they patronized and spent no time at all selecting their suits.
“Well, are you going to just stare at your phone because I’m getting messages from Luca, and Bianca just DM’d me,” Ivy said, then laughed. “Oops, Daniel too. How had we forgotten about my brother?”
“Maybe because he’s out of the country,” I pointed out.
“Just as well,” Matteo muttered.
I squeezed our clasped hands. “We’re married now. No need to be jealous.” I couldn’t help teasing. He was such a pain in the ass whenever Daniel was mentioned.
Apparently, my best friend had a similar imp in her. “At least I won’t be hearing Sera whining that we should be sisters-in-law anymore.”
“Ouch, Poison Ivy,” Nico drawled. “That’s below the belt.”
“Is that so?” my husband said. Husband. I turned the word over in my head. I still couldn’t believe it. “I tease Ivy about it. I was never serious. You know how my situation was. Besides—”
“Let’s not talk about it,” he cut in.
“Good idea,” I retorted and then glared at my best friend.
“What?” she said, eyes widening. “Maybe we had too much champagne before the ceremony.”
“Yeah, blame the alcohol,” Nico muttered and handed flutes of bubbly to Matteo and me.
“Apparently it doesn’t have any effect on you. You’re still an ass,” Ivy snapped. She glanced at the flute in Nico’s hand, she noted, “And rude.” She grabbed the champagne out of his hands. “Give me that.”
The drink sloshed over their hands. “Watch it!”
They glowered at each other.
Hmm…if I didn’t dread it, I would say my best friend and Nico had serious chemistry. I was going to get her back for teasing me when I noticed Matteo was leaning back against the seat, his head thrown back, eyes closed.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “We can just skip dinner and go to our suite. Order room service.”
“I’m fine.” He straightened and gave me a tight smile. “Just a bit tired. Hungry too. I’m sure I’ll feel reinvigorated after dinner.” He waggled his brows. “I’m not going to fail you on our wedding night.”
“Are you sure you two don’t want to have a romantic dinner all by yourselves?” Ivy looked at me, then at Matteo.
“Weddings are meant to be celebrated with family,” I insisted.
“Sera is right.” He put an arm around me and drew me close. “We’ll have all the romantic dinners on our honeymoon.”
I laughed. “I don’t even know where we’re going. Are you going to surprise me?”
Before he could reply, both our phones blasted with alerts.
Matteo
“Carlotta, I promise…” Sera was shaking her head. “Matteo and I will have a church ceremony and you and Ivy can plan it if you want.”
It was a good thing we were in a private room. The phone calls had been nonstop. Dad had been amused, but Mom and the McGrath family were appalled I eloped with Sera. As for Luca, he sent me a brief one: “We’ll talk about the disrespect when you come back.”
“How about we don’t, fucker.” I didn’t type that back. His response and everyone else’s only solidified my sentiment that Sera and I did the right thing.
I glanced up to see Nico and Ivy stiffly eating beside each other. Surprisingly, these two hadn’t killed each other yet. My brother had the tendency to rub Sera’s friend the wrong way. Nico was being Nico. Their personalities didn’t mesh well. My brother had less patience for the frivolous than I did and we looked at social media the same way. A time suck. But we grudgingly accepted it from a marketing standpoint. I was growing used to it because it made Sera happy to indulge Ivy.
And what made my wife happy made me happy.
I looked at the two in front of me again, half amused, half resigned.
Maybe like aggressive dogs they just needed more socialization with each other.
But, first of all, Nico needed to stop with the fucking nicknames.
My phone flashed.
Bianca.
“We’ll never finish dinner,” I muttered and answered the call. “Hey, smurfette.”
“Don’t ‘hey, smurfette’ me,” she snapped. Her voice was hoarse as though she was crying.
“Aren’t you going to—”
“How dare you get married without your only sister!”
I swore under my breath.
“There’ll be another—”
“First Renz, and now you. Renz, I understood the circumstances, but you?”
“I think there are things you don’t understand.”
She sniffed. “But congratulations. I saw the pictures. Sera is gorgeous.”
“Hey, how about me, the handsome brother?”
“You looked okay.”
I chuckled.
“Can I talk to my sister-in-law?”
I looked over to Sera who was just finishing up the call with Carlotta. I mouthed, “Bianca.”
She smiled shyly and nodded.
I looked at my congealed pasta Alfredo and sighed. At least it was the appetizer portion. I was still starving and starting to get grouchy. I guessed my wife was rubbing off on me.
“Thank you again.” Sera ended the call with my sister. She was about to hand me the phone when Nico snatched it.
“Give me that,” he grumbled. “Yours too.”
Sera promptly surrendered our devices and Nico switched them to silent.
“Let’s fucking eat,” he said.
Amen.
After the barrage of phone calls, dinner went more smoothly. It was two a.m. when we rolled back to the hotel—a De Lucci property. The limo dropped us off at the entrance. I helped Sera from the vehicle and we walked into the hotel’s grand atrium.
Food and wine definitely put me in a better mood, and I’d been anxious to get my wife naked. Honestly, I thought I wouldn’t be able to perform my husbandly duties because exhaustion hit me in the limo on our way to dinner. With the situation developing between our families, plus the added complication of Gustavo, the seven-hour drive followed by our flight to Vegas made it the longest damn day of my life. Nico and Jonas had been more than capable of handling the company while I’d been away. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t touched base during that time, but the weight of everything I’d forsaken to be with Sera descended on my shoulders.
I was reminded of my responsibilities.
Of taking over from Dad.
Gustavo became a landmine and, like Luca, he’d seen this elopement as an insult.
Still, I had no regrets.
Sera and I wanted to seize the moment, and we’d had those precious few hours when the world needed nothing from us. We had each other.
I was so preoccupied with the buzzing of my thoughts, I didn’t notice the man sitting on the couch in front of the check-in desk until he was on his feet. With his disheveled appearance, I would have clocked him as a gambler who’d lost a fortune in the casino, but he looked familiar.
Nico, who had come in behind us, shouted, “Matteo!”
The man had pulled a gun and pointed it at me and Sera.
My wife tried to get in front of me, but I instinctively spun her away from the threat.
I saw the terror in her eyes before gunfire exploded and a force hit my back and pitched us to the floor.
Commence mayhem.
