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There aren’t only mimosas for breakfast. We also have a selection of pastries, smoked salmon with little wedges of lemon, plus asparagus and hollandaise sauce. There’s even a tiny silver bowl filled with caviar sitting on ice.
“Wow,” I say. “If we eat all that, we’re not going to fit into our dresses.”
Mom beams. “I know. Nataniele did good, didn’t he?”
“He organized all this?”
“Of course.”
I sip at my drink and help myself to some smoked salmon and caviar. It wouldn’t be my normal choice in breakfast, but what the hell. It’s a special day, after all. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him, too.
Before long, a knock comes at the door. It’s the team of hairdressers and makeup artists that Nataniele has arranged. I’ve met them before, because they came to do the trial run, and everyone seems excited to be involved. The room becomes noisy and busy, and I allow myself to be seated in front of a mirror so I can get my hair and makeup done.
The next couple of hours pass in a blur. I’m primped and preened to within an inch of my life. I wonder how the Devils are going to react when they see me like this. I hope they love how I look.
Finally, it’s time to get changed. I allow the stylists to help me into my dress, so I don’t wreck my hair, and then they pull the corset tight for me.
Mom emerges in her dress, and my breath catches.
Tears fill my eyes, and I cup my hands over my mouth. “Oh, my God. You look so beautiful.”
“Don’t cry,” she commands. “If you cry, then I’ll cry, and my makeup will have to be done all over again.”
I flap my hand in front of my face, trying my best to keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks, carrying my mascara with them.
“Sorry,” I say, sniffing. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
We embrace, both careful not to ruin our hair, and then release each other.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Definitely.”
A knock comes at the door, and it opens.
A man in a suit pokes his head around. “The carriage is ready.”
“Thank you,” Mom says.
We take a few moments to ensure we have everything, and that both the makeup and hair are perfect, and then we head down to the first floor and out to the front of the building.
A horse and carriage wait at the front of the university to take us to the chapel. Two white horses, feathers on their heads, paw the ground and snort into the air.
“Wow, this is gorgeous, Mom.”
I mean it, too. I’m not sure what I was expecting this wedding to turn out like, but Nataniele has really done my mom proud. With the gothic building of Verona Falls University behind us, this is like a genuine fairytale, and I’m blown away by the effort he’s made.
The driver helps us both up into the carriage, and then we’re off, the horses trotting along the track that takes us through the grounds and toward the chapel.
I’m excited about seeing Dom and the others. Dom is the best man, of course, but Tino and Kirill are also groomsmen. They’re all going to look so handsome in their suits. I hope they’ll like my dress—and be thinking about what I look like out of it as well.
I compress a secret smile between my lips.
We reach the location for the wedding—the tiny chapel set in a clearing of the grounds. Standing outside the arched doors are Kirill and Tino. They both look gorgeous in light gray suits that are made to measure, and a red rose in their buttonholes. The conservative suits make for an interesting contrast to the tattoos crawling up the side of Tino’s muscular neck, and Kirill’s piercing. Kirill has slicked back his bleached blond hair. The pair look even hotter than normal, and my heart thumps.
The carriage draws to a halt, and they both move forward to help us down. Kirill helps my mother, and then Tino waits for me. He takes my hand as I climb down, and then his gaze flicks down my body and back up to my face.
He blows out a low whistle. “Wow. You look incredible.”
