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“Stefano?” His father looked at him for confirmation that he agreed.
“Fine. But I won’t be living months in another man’s home. Once we return from our extended honeymoon in Sicily, I will secure a temporary residence here where we will live until we return home for good.”
“Good. Thank you.” I smiled at Stefano and squeezed his hand affectionately, but he didn’t seem his usual warm self.
“As for the wedding itself, will you two be wanting to have the wedding here? Or perhaps at one of our family’s hotels?”
I opened my mouth to tell them about my idea of having the wedding at Mia’s family vineyard, if she was okay with that, but Stefano spoke first. “No. We will be having it at the Duomo di Alba.”
“We are?” I looked at Stefano in surprise.
“Si. If you won’t have us get married in Sicily, we will at least get married in the best Cathedral in the area.”
I didn’t like the air of superiority in which he said the words, but I bit my tongue in front of our families.
“Have you thought of a color palette for the wedding?” Mia redirected the wedding plans back to me. If anyone knew how it was to have your wedding railroaded by powerful Italian men, it was her.
“Blue, to match the paintings of the Cathedral,” Stefano interjected, and Mia looked at me uncomfortably.
“Actually,” I tried to hide my irritation with excitement, forcing a smile so big that my face hurt. “I’ve always wanted burgundy and gold.”
Stefano scoffed. “Red is for whores, not for a wedding.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my anger before I cut out Stefano’s tongue with a dinner knife.
Mia must have sensed my annoyance and scrambled to intervene. “Perhaps we should hold off on the details. Planning a wedding can be overwhelming. Especially on an empty stomach. Where is Bianca with our dinner?”
“Maybe I should go see what’s taking her.” I stood quickly, needing a moment away from Stefano and his father.
“I’ll join you,” Mia said, and she hurried to follow me.
Once we were in the kitchen, she stopped, taking me by both arms. “Are you alright?”
“They were being overbearing, controlling asses, right? It’s not just the hormones making me crazy?”
“No. They were definitely trying to control everything and even your fiancé seemed less than interested in your thoughts on your wedding day.”
“Right?”
Just then Bianca hurried into the kitchen with two bottles of wine in her arms. “Bianca,” she jumped at hearing my voice then smiled. “We wanted to see what was taking dinner so long. It’s a little tense in there, and we could use food as a buffer.”
“Of course, it's almost ready. I’m sorry signoras.”
“Almost? You usually don’t have any trouble serving dinner punctually. Is something wrong?” Mia asked with concern.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Signore Stefano requested a last-minute change to the dinner menu, so I had to start all over after going back to the store this morning.
“He did what?” My voice pitched.
“It’s okay, signora. He just wanted a traditional Sicilian dinner which I’m not as accustomed to cooking but I promise, I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Of course, you are, Bianca. Please, don’t stress yourself about it. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“We can wait. It’s no trouble at all,” Mia assured her. “We’ll be in the dining room whenever it’s ready. Call Lucia to help you if you need. I’m sure she won’t mind at all.”
“Si, signora.”
We returned to the table and Stefano made a show of pulling me close and kissing my temple, but I turned to whisper to him. “You changed the dinner menu the day of?”
