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The girl I was a couple of years ago would never have believed any of this was possible. She had been so frightened. So exhausted. She had tried so hard to be tough, but the cracks were beginning to show. I think if I hadn’t had Angelique to love and be strong for, I would not have survived. I blinked at my reflection in the mirror, realizing I had forgotten where I was.

And what I was about to do.

I was about to get married.

A soft knock on the door had me calling out, “Enter.” Maria poked her head in, looking very pretty in her lavender dress with a matching hat. She had been in her element preparing for the wedding these past few weeks. Auntie and Maria had bumped heads a few times. But in the end, they had made it work.

I knew everything would be perfect. And even if it wasn’t, even if it was a disaster with inappropriate toasts and drunk uncles, even if the cake fell on the ground, it didn’t matter. As long as we ended up married at the end of the day, it would still be the best day of my life.

“Yes?”

“Francesca. It’s time.”

“Thank you, Mama,” I said, smiling tenderly at the woman who had, in fact, raised me. She was my mother. And it was time I told her so. “Thank you for bringing me up.”

The tears in her eyes were instantaneous.

“None of that, now,” she said, wiping her eyes. “You are a wicked girl with cruel timing.”

“I am wicked. And it is your fault that I am,” I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you wretched girl,” she said, laughing. “Come on. That handsome man of yours is wearing holes in the carpet.”

“Is he nervous?”

“As a cat,” she said with an eye roll.

“Maybe we should have a champagne toast and make him wait a little longer.”

“The baby!”

“The doctor said a little wine was fine.”

“The doctor is afraid of you,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Just a couple of sips for me. I am sure it will go straight to my head. Champagne always does.”

“Va bene, cara mia,” she said, pouring us each a glass. “As you wish.”

That is how the bride and the mother of the bride ended up showing up five minutes late, giggling and smelling like very expensive champagne.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Vincent

“You are going to wear a hole in that carpet.”

I glared at my cousin. He was one of my two best men. I also had a plethora of groomsmen, including Tiny. But could you really call a mountain a groomsman? He was so big that you couldn’t even see anyone else.

“You sound like Maria,” Anthony chortled. “She just said the same thing.”

“Don’t let Auntie hear you talking about her. She’ll get jealous,” Michael said.

Anthony paled at that.

“Did they make you taste the cannolis? I’ve never been so afraid in my life.”

Even I stopped pacing to stare at him. My brother sounded petrified. Our father had taught us never to show any emotion, especially not fear or weakness of any kind. So his reaction took me by surprise. I gave my cousin a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

“They have been making me taste food all week. They each make their own version of the same food. And I have to judge.”

“Dear Jesus,” I breathed. “That does sound terrifying.”

That’s when Michael started laughing.

“You two are afraid of those old women!”

“First of all,” Anthony said, “never call them old. They are middle-aged.”

“Sixty isn’t middle-aged,” Michael said with an eye roll.

“Never call them sixty,” I advised him. “There are no set numbers when it comes to a woman’s age.”

“It’s best to pretend we live in a world without digits,” Anthony agreed.

“If you aren’t terrified of judging their cooking, I will let them know and you can be their judge,” I offered solicitously.

“Yeah, good luck with that. Choose wrong and you could find a razor blade in your Stromboli.”

Michael paled and looked back and forth between us. He finally got it. It was his turn to look worried.

“Forget I said anything.”

“Gladly,” I said, resuming my pacing.

“What the hell are you so worried about?”

“He’s worried she won’t show,” my brother answered. Michael rolled his eyes.

“That’s absurd. She is head over heels for the big goon.”

“I don’t know if she is even here. Is she coming? Will she say yes?” I finally said, throwing up my hands.

“Let’s look at this logically. Where else would she go, Brother?” Anthony asked.

“I don’t know. The other side of the world, if I pissed her off enough.”

“Did you piss her off?” my brother asked calmly.

“Not recently.”

“So?”

“Why don’t you check your tracking? Did you know that your brother tried to collar Francesca like a dog?”

“Never speak of that again,” I hissed at Michael. “Especially not today.”

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