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She shakes her head. “Oh, don’t let him fool you. He’s definitely loving it.”
I follow her down the hallway before she stops at a door, opens it, and flips on the light.
“Are you going for a more casual look, dressy—” Gigi starts to ask.
Natalia interrupts and says, “Sexy? It is the night of your wedding, after all. I’m sure you and—”
I cringe and stop her. “Our marriage is strictly non-romantic.”
Gigi holds up her hand and shoots Natalia an annoyed look. “There will be no talk of my brother’s … romantic life.”
My mouth falls open when I enter the bedroom. Gigi Marchetti’s bedroom is exactly how you’d imagine a Mafia princess’s room would look like. A sparkling chandelier hangs from the high ceiling, and purple paisley wallpaper decorates one wall. White drapes are hung along her dark canopy bed, complete with a purple velvet comforter.
Just like with her bedroom, Gigi fits the profile of a Mafia princess. Sure, my sisters and I do as well, but she is to the extreme. Her hair is black with hints of purple in the wavy curls. Her tanned skin matches her brother’s, and she has an Italian nose—long with a prominent bridge.
My gaze moves from Gigi to Natalia.
While Gigi is shorter, Natalia is tall.
Natalia oozes sex appeal with her straight jet-black hair and hourglass curves, while Gigi bleeds high-maintenance andfun auntvibes. She’s attractive but notin your facesexy.
Gigi opens a set of French doors to a dream closet.
“All right, new sister-in-law,” Gigi says, “what are you in the mood to wear?”
“Something casual,” I say, admiring her handbag collection. “Comfortable.”
She nods and points toward the opposite end of the room, where another set of open French doors leads into a bathroom. “Shower is in there. Use all the products you want. I’ll grab some things and leave them on the bed for when you’re ready. You can leave the dress in the bathroom. I’ll have it dry-cleaned and send Benny the bill.”
I clasp my hands together, and my voice cracks with sincerity. “Thank you so much.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” she adds.
I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I hate nothing more than being emotional, so I hold in a breath to keep myself together as I change out of my dress. I need to do it quickly because if Mom or my sisters get here, they’ll want to help. But I need to do this alone to process all that’s happened and give myself space.
While I wait for the water to warm, I attempt to shed my dress, but it’s too hard. Tears hit my eyes as I search through Gigi’s drawers for scissors.
I cover my mouth as a sob leaves me and cut one strap of the dress.
It falls loose as I do the other.
I held in my tears until this moment. I stare at the bloodstains as the dress pools at my feet. My mother was right. My wedding will forever be a memory—only one I wish I could forget.
I collect the dress in my hands, worried I’ll get blood on Gigi’s floor, and drop it on the closed toilet seat.
I have the blood of a man who wanted to hurt me on my dress.
In my hair.
On my skin.
A tear runs down my cheek, mixing with the blood, and I throw my head back. I place my hand on my chest to calm my heart, and that’s when I notice my ring glistening under the vanity light.
I’ve never seen a piece of jewelry so breathtaking. The band is rose gold, and the color of the salt-and-pepper diamond is so translucent that you can partially see through the stone. A halo of white diamonds is at the top in a geometric shape, the ring almost appearing crown-shaped.
When I step into the shower, I scrub my body harsher than I should. I’m at a crossroads. I want to keep the memory of when Benny and I shared our kiss, but I also want to erase when a man attempted to kidnap me. Even though it was a wedding I didn’t want, I still wanted it to be good, goddammit.
I take the longest shower of my life while attempting to relax, and when I’m done, I don’t bother blow-drying my hair. I snatch a scrunchie from the counter and throw my hair into a ponytail.
