My throat tightens. “You’re going to ruin my makeup.”
“Not only yours.” She laughs, wiping her eyes. “God, we’re a mess.”
“We’re DiMichelis. Mess is in the blood.”
A soft knock on the door has my pulse jumping.
He wouldn’t, would he?
I jog over to the door and peer through the peephole, letting out a breath. I open the door and smile at Mom. She’s dressed in a soft lavender with a beaded bodice and straight silk skirt. She looks elegant as always.
She steps inside and takes my hands in hers as she gazes at me. “You look beautiful,tesoro.I am so proud of you for doing this. You are truly an inspiration, in all regards. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She leans in. “You know, your grandmother would have had something to say about this.”
“Nonna had something to say about everything,” I say.
Mom nods. “She would have told you to keep your chin up and your knife sharp.”
“Sounds like her,” I say, my eyes dropping to her ring, thething I cling to when my heart and mind are spiraling in different directions.
“I’m not going to stand here and tell you this is okay. It’s not. None of this is okay.” Mom cups my face in her hands, her jaw tightening. “But you are my daughter. And I raised you to survive anything. So you will survive this. And when your father wakes up, we will have words. Many, many words, trust me on that.”
I smile. “I’d pay to see that conversation.”
“It won’t be a conversation. It will be a reckoning.” She presses a kiss to my forehead. “Now, let’s go get you married.”
The ceremony room at City Hall is small with wood-paneled walls and fluorescent lighting that makes everyone look slightly green. A judge checks his watch as we pile inside. I’d have preferred a quick, private ceremony, but in this world, word needs to get around that the two power families in Boston are officially united. Evidently, the best way to do that is make a public spectacle.
Only our families are here for the courthouse ceremony. The Molloys are on one side. Eamon is in the front row, looking smug. Ronan sits beside him, cold and unreadable. Three other men sit behind them, brothers, I assume, based on the dark hair and similar builds. One of them catches my eye and gives me a small nod.
It doesn’t comfort me. Nothing about these circumstances screams warm and cozy. But even that minor acknowledgement makes me think that not all of my in-laws are as cutthroat and cold as that asshole Eamon.
My family is on the other side. Mom sits up straight and tall, staring straight ahead. Luna is beside her, gripping her hand. Vincenzo is at the end of the row, a warm smile on his lips when our eyes connect.
And at the front of the room, waiting for me, is Lochlan.
He’s wearing a navy suit that hugs every inch of his muscular build. He’s not wearing a tie, and his top button is open. Again, just like the gala, like he doesn’t take himself that seriously, that he’s relaxed and confident in who and what he is.
I like that… dammit.
His eyes find mine as I walk toward him, and something passes between us. Not romance. Not love. Something else. An understanding, maybe. Two people walking into the same storm with no idea how either will weather it.
I walk alone. No one gives me away. I give myself.
It’s the only power move I have left.
I stop beside him. His eyes are like lasers burning into my soul. I swallow hard and tear my gaze away, hoping it will stop the tiny flutters in my belly. With my heart pounding against my ribs, I turn slightly away to face the judge.
“We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Adriana DiMicheli and Lochlan Molloy,” the judge says, already sounding bored.
I tune out the words and focus on breathing. On not running right out that damn door. On keeping my face neutral so no one can identify the chaos unfolding behind my eyes.
Lochlan’s hand brushes mine. Just barely. I don’t pull away.
“Do you, Lochlan James Molloy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward?”
