13. Mia
Chapter 13
Mia
The terrace is quieter now. The guests have mostly drifted back toward the gala’s heart, their excited whispers fading into the background hum of music and conversation. Yet, I’m rooted to the spot, the weight of Carlito’s words and the glint of the engagement ring on my finger keeping me anchored in this surreal moment.
Carlito stands beside me, his hand warm and steady against mine. His gaze moves from the ring to my face, his dark eyes softer now than I’ve ever seen them. For the first time tonight, the control he wears like armor seems to slip, revealing something vulnerable, something real.
“We should return,” I say, my voice barely audible. But Carlito doesn’t move.
“Not yet,” he replies, his tone low but deliberate. His words make my heart pound all over again.
Before I can question him, Carlito turns and gestures to Leo, who steps forward with the quiet efficiency I’ve come to associate with him. Leo listens as Carlito murmurs something, nodding sharply before retreating into the crowd.
“What was that about?” I ask, my pulse quickening.
Carlito’s lips quirk into a faint, enigmatic smile. “You’ll see.”
Moments later, the lights on the terrace subtly shift, growing softer, warmer. The music transitions seamlessly into something slower, more intimate. Around us, the staff begins moving with quiet precision, rearranging tables and clearing a small open space near the terrace’s edge.
Realization dawns, and I whirl to face Carlito. “What are you doing?”
“We’re not waiting,” he says simply, his voice carrying the calm certainty of a man who always gets what he wants.
My heart lurches. “You mean—”
“The wedding,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “Here. Tonight.”
I blink at him, my breath catching in my throat. My mind races, trying to grasp the enormity of what he’s suggesting. “Carlito, this is... it’s too much. I—”
He steps closer, cutting off my words with his steady gaze. “It’s perfect, Mia. Everything is already here—the people, the setting, the moment. There’s no reason to wait.”
The calm conviction in his voice is like a tether, pulling me back from the edge of panic. But even as I nod, as if on autopilot, my thoughts are a chaotic storm.
Bianca appears at my side, her emerald eyes wide with excitement. “Mia!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this! You’re getting married tonight!”
I try to respond, but my words stick in my throat. Bianca doesn’t seem to notice. She pulls back, her hands gripping my shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll be your maid of honor! Who else would it be?”
“Bianca,” I start, but the sound of Carlito’s voice interrupts me.
“Everything is ready,” he says, stepping forward to offer his arm.
Bianca squeals softly before letting go of me, her enthusiasm spilling over as she rushes toward the center of the terrace. I glance at Carlito, his expression steady, expectant.
I take a breath, steadying myself as best I can, and slip my hand into the crook of his arm. As we move toward the makeshift altar, the question lingers in my mind: What have I just agreed to?
The terrace feels like a dreamscape now, transformed into something intimate and ethereal. The gentle glow of the lights casts golden halos on the guests’ faces, and the soft strains of violin music weave through the air. Everything about this moment feels perfect, except for the chaos in my chest.
I barely register Bianca returning to my side, her hands busy smoothing the fabric of my dress and adjusting stray strands of my hair. “Mia, you look stunning,” she says, her voice brimming with genuine admiration. “This is going to be magical.”
Magical. I glance at Carlito, who’s standing a few paces away, speaking quietly to someone from the staff. His presence commands the space, his broad shoulders and poised stance making him look like he belongs in this spotlight.
My gaze falls to the ring on my finger, its brilliance catching the terrace lights. A part of me wants to run, to take a moment to think, to breathe. But as my eyes lift to Carlito again, something in his steady confidence grounds me.
Bianca grabs my hand, pulling me toward the makeshift altar. “Come on, it’s time! I’ll be right here with you.”
Carlito turns as we approach, his dark eyes locking onto mine. The faintest trace of a smile softens his features, and for a fleeting moment, the noise in my head quiets.
Leo steps forward and clears his throat, addressing the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. Tonight, we celebrate not just a proposal but a union—a commitment as enduring as the city lights that surround us.”
There’s a low murmur of approval from the guests as they settle into place, forming an impromptu semicircle around the altar.
Carlito offers me his hand again, and I take it, my fingers trembling slightly. He draws me closer, his grip firm but not unkind. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
I nod, though I’m not entirely sure the answer is yes.
The officiant begins speaking, his words flowing over me like a distant echo. I’m too caught in my own head, replaying the whirlwind events that led to this moment. When did I lose control? Or… did I ever have it to begin with?
As the officiant talks of love and trust, Carlito’s thumb brushes lightly against my hand, pulling me back to the present. I glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze takes my breath away. There’s something deeper there, something raw and unguarded.
When it’s time to exchange vows, I hesitate, my mind searching for the right words. “Carlito,” I begin, my voice trembling. “This… this isn’t what I expected. But somehow, it feels…” I pause, the words catching in my throat. “…right.”
He doesn’t break eye contact, his deep voice steady as he responds. “Mia, you are stronger than you realize. And I will stand by you, no matter what. Always.”
The sincerity in his tone makes my chest tighten. This man, who is so commanding, so often unreadable, is laying something bare in front of all these people.
The officiant calls for the rings, and Carlito produces a simpler yet equally striking platinum wedding band. He slides it onto my finger with precision, placing it beside the engagement ring already resting there, as if sealing a pact only he fully understands.
As I take his hand to return the gesture, the enormity of this moment crashes over me. I glance at the two rings now on my finger, the engagement ring’s boldness paired with the wedding band’s quiet elegance. Together, they feel like a perfect representation of Carlito himself—unyielding yet deeply deliberate.
“By the power vested in me,” the officiant begins, but his words blur as Carlito steps closer.
“You’re mine now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.
The officiant declares us husband and wife, his words punctuated by the sound of applause rising from the crowd. The cheers are thunderous, an overwhelming wave of celebration that seems to vibrate through the terrace. But I barely register it. All I can feel is Carlito—his hand still holding mine, his gaze never leaving my face.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant says, his voice ceremonial and calm.
Carlito’s free hand moves to my cheek, his touch warm and deliberate. His eyes soften as he leans in, and before I can process the moment, his lips meet mine. The kiss is firm yet tender, a mixture of possession and reassurance that takes my breath away.
The applause crescendos, guests shouting their approval and raising their glasses in toasts. When Carlito pulls back, his thumb brushes my cheek lightly, his voice low so only I can hear. “We’ll do this our way, Mia.”
My heart races as I search his eyes for answers I don’t know how to ask for. But there’s no time to linger in the moment.
Bianca is the first to rush toward us, practically vibrating with excitement. “Mia!” she squeals, throwing her arms around me. “You’re a Marcelli now! Oh my God, this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”
She pulls back just enough to glance at Carlito, her expression playful. “You’ve officially outdone yourself, Dad.”
Carlito smirks faintly, but his attention stays on me. “Thank you, Bianca,” he says, his voice carrying a note of quiet amusement.
The next moments blur into a series of congratulations, hugs, and champagne toasts. Guests circle us, their words overlapping in a cacophony of well-wishes. I try to smile and nod, but my mind feels like it’s spinning.
Carlito never leaves my side. His hand remains at the small of my back, his presence steady and unshakable. It should feel comforting, but it only adds to the weight pressing on my chest.
Eventually, the crowd begins to thin, the energy of the terrace softening as the night wears on. Carlito turns to the remaining guests, raising a hand in a silent gesture. “That’s enough for tonight,” he says, his voice calm but commanding.
The guests disperse without hesitation, leaving the terrace quieter than it’s been all evening. The city lights twinkle in the distance, their glow casting a golden hue over the space.
Carlito turns back to me, his hand lifting mine to his lips. The gesture is slow, deliberate, and strangely intimate. My breath hitches at the unexpected tenderness in his touch.
“We’re not done yet,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper.
I blink up at him, the weight of his words settling over me. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” he replies, his tone enigmatic but laced with promise.
He begins to lead me away from the terrace, his grip on my hand firm but not forceful. I follow, my steps unsteady as we move toward the stairs.
As we descend, the lively hum of the terrace fades into the quieter, more intimate stillness of the hotel’s upper corridors. Each step heightens the storm of emotions swirling inside me—excitement, fear, and something I can’t yet name.
My gaze drops to my hand, where two rings now rest—the bold diamond of the engagement ring and the delicate band from the wedding. Together, they glitter in the faint light, a promise and a commitment.
What have I just gotten myself into?