Chapter Twenty-Five

When I’d imagined my wedding day in the past, every little detail had been planned to perfection, everything steered toward one goal: maximum effect. I’d always felt the pressure of being the Capo’s daughter, bound by countless rules and weighed down by even more expectations. I hadn’t been scared to fail because I wouldn’t have allowed that option. I would have worked my ass off to make sure failure was impossible.

I still didn’t fear failure, even though now the possibility of actually failing in the eyes of society was likely. I had already failed in so many eyes, had broken eternal rules and failed expectations by following my heart, by daring to ask for a place in a world that was as much my own as it was Amo’s, Valerio’s or any man’s. I’d bled like men did, had endured torture and pain. All for the Famiglia, my Capo—that he was my father first hardly mattered.

In the past, I hadn’t taken love into account because love was difficult to come by in our world, especially one as boundless and powerful as my parents’ love for each other. I had been certain I could never have something similar and chosen not to risk trying. I’d settled for a bond of convenience, of mild affection. I had been scared back then. But since Maddox, I had found my bravery.

A knock sounded. Smiling, I called, “Come in!”

Dad stepped inside but froze the moment his eyes landed on me in my wedding gown. Dad looked at me as if he had never seen me before.

“Maddox doesn’t deserve you,” he murmured. Before I could get angry, he continued, “No one does, Princess. But you think he’s deserving, you chose him, and so I have to accept it.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “It’s my choice, and I don’t have doubt in my body that it’s the right choice. I’m happy Dad, and I know Maddox will do everything he can to make me happy in the future as well.”

“He better do,” Dad growled.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll always want to protect you, Marcella. Even after you’re married, even when you’re a parent yourself, even when I’m old and gray.”

“You are old and there are a few gray streaks in your hair,” I teased. Dad didn’t look old at all, but he deserved the jab for his overprotectiveness.

“Not too old to kick your husband’s ass.”

“I don’t want you to fight with Maddox to prove a point, all right?”

Maddox and Dad were both stubborn and loved to fight, but I wanted them to focus their brutality on others and not each other.

Dad took my hand and kissed my palm. “We should head out now.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

Dad never took his hand from my back as he led me through the endless corridors of the hotel. Outside several cars waited on us. Dad had issued the highest security protocol for today, but I didn’t want to think about the dangers. Nothing and no one would ruin today.

Dad and I slipped into the back seat of an armored limousine.

“Were you nervous on your wedding day?” I asked quietly as we set off toward the church.

Dad considered that. “If I’d known then what I know today, that I’d love your mother beyond measure, I would have been nervous. Nervous about ruining everything, but I hardly knew your mother and didn’t care about her the way I do now, not even close. She was a means to an end.”

“I can’t imagine you and Mom not loving each other.”

Dad chuckled, and as usual, his eyes softened. “Neither can I.”

“I think it’s sad that you and Mom never celebrated your love like Maddox and I do today. You should consider renewing your vows.”

Dad frowned then he shook his head. “Today is your day, princess. Today you choose love against all odds. That’s what you should think about.”

As if on cue, we pulled up in front of the church.

Suddenly I felt nervous. I wasn’t even sure why.

“I get it now,” Dad said suddenly.

I couldn’t follow his train of thought. “Why you chose him. Maddox is going to spend every day of your life together trying to be the man you deserve. He’ll try to make you happy. Any man in our world would have tried to please me, to make me happy. With Maddox, you won’t have to worry about it, and I guess that’s good. As your husband, he should always think of you first when he makes a decision, not about his Capo or his chances of rising in rank.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car.

This was going to be the wedding of the year. Everyone was talking about it. Many in not very favorable terms. Most of them were clever enough to keep the rumors down.

I looked like a different version of myself in the tuxedo, all of my tattoos covered. As the man at Marcella’s side, I’d occasionally have to play a role, but it was something I did gladly. These people meant nothing.

The old doors of the church creaked, the sound reverberating in the nave.

The entire wedding party seemed to suck in a breath when Marcella entered the church at Luca’s side. She was so beautiful, they should have her face plastered on paintings instead of angels, and I didn’t give a damn how blasphemous that might be.

I kept my eyes only on her, forgetting everyone around us, even Luca who led her to the altar.

I didn’t know much about wedding dresses, nor about wedding traditions. The moment I saw Marcella, nothing else mattered. Not the critical or judgmental looks from some of the guests, or even the hostile expressions from some of the Made Men. To win the trust of the Famiglia, I still had a long way to go. But I’d finally arrived where I needed to be, at the side of a good woman.

Marcella wore a tight, floor-length dress. The upper part was lace with a high neck that even covered part of her throat, letting her neck appear even more elegant. Pieces of lace adorned her wrists and sheer fabric covered her arms up until the short sleeves. It was an elegant dress, but still managed to appear almost conservative. Of course, Marcella wouldn’t be Marcella if she didn’t give her critics the finger in a subtle way. The lace in the back had a hole right over the tattoo of her crown. Her hair was up so every guest who watched the ceremony had to stare at her crown. A queen through and through.

I could only imagine what some of the stuck-up folk in the Famiglia thought of that. Maybe they had thought Marcella would have a small wedding, everything hush-hush because of who she married, or that she would hide the marks of her captivity, but Marcella wasn’t someone who hid or ducked away, and fuck that’s what I loved about her. She could be tough as nails but beneath it she was soft as molten butter.

I tore my eyes away from her with ginormous difficulty when Luca looked at me, ready to give her to me.

I held out my hand.

Luca took a step forward. “I’m giving you my daughter today. I hope you realize what kind of gift that is. Don’t make me regret this, or I’ll make you regret it.”

I inclined my head. I’d expected nothing less than a threat from Luca on this day, anything else would have been a huge disappointment.

When he finally handed her over to me and her warm palm touched mine, my sole focus turned to her.

“You’re missing a real crown,” I murmured. “Because you are a fucking queen, Snow White.”

She smiled. “One crown is enough and it’s the only one everyone’s paying attention to anyway.”

“Forget all of them, everything but us.”

She nodded and with linked hands we turned to the pastor.

When I said ‘I do’, I remembered Amo’s words about losing my freedom, but like before, I didn’t feel any less free. I was looking forward to a life at Marcella’s side.

Before we braved the congratulations, Marcella seemed lost, her gaze distant as we waited outside for the rest of the guests to file out of church.

I leaned down. “What are you thinking? You look miles away.”

“That I’m glad I was brave enough for our love.”

I cocked a brow. “Am I such a risky bet?”

“As if you don’t know it.”

I shrugged with a grin, squeezing her hand, loving the feel of my ring around her finger. My woman.

With her by my side, I’d be strong enough to ignore the fake congratulations and sugary-sweet-smiles of people who saw our bond as an affront to what they believed in. I’d spend the rest of my life pissing them off by flaunting our love in front of their faces. And maybe I’d kill one or two by accident. I was sure Matteo would help me dispose of the bodies.

Marcella sent me a look that said she knew what I was thinking, and I doubted she’d have any qualms about me ridding the world of one or two of her extended family.