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She hurries out of the room, wiping a tear from her face.
I hook my arm through Misha’s, and as we leave the house, I see our neighbors lining the street.
Rose petals are thrown, forming a path, as I walk to Armani’s house. The doors to the courtyard are wide open, and I see flowers everywhere.
Piano notes start to fill the air, and I recognize the song. You are the reason, by Callum Scott.
The lyrics are emotional as Misha walks me down the aisle of white petals. My eyes lock on Armani, and I lose my breath at how handsome he looks.
Of Saints. That’s what Armani’s last name translates to from Latin.
I’m marrying a saint.
A huge lump forms in my throat, and my emotions are all over the place. I hardly notice Mr. and Mrs. Aslanhov.
Misha hands me to Armani, saying, “I’m giving you my only family.”
Armani nods, “After today, she won’t be your only family. I’ll be honored to call you my brother.”
God. My heart.
We turn to Father Moretti, who’s graciously agreed to wed us.
He reads a passage of scripture, then smiles at us. “Face each other.”
I turn to Armani, and my eyes drink in the handsome man who I’ll live with for the rest of my life.
Armani takes hold of my left hand and gives it a squeeze, his gaze resting lovingly on me.
“Armani, repeat after me,” Father Moretti says.
Armani waits until Father Moretti has recited the vows, then he says, “I, Armani Diego De Santis, take thee, Tiana Petrov, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”
I can’t keep the tears back as they spiral down my cheeks.
“Tiana, repeat after me,” Father Moretti instructs.
My lips part and my voice is strained and quivering as I repeat, “I, Tiana Petrov, take thee, Armani Diego De Santis, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”
We exchange the rings Armani got for us, then Father Morretti asks, “Armani, do you take Tiana as your wife?”
The corner of Armani’s mouth lifts in a hot smirk, “I do.”
I try to smile, but I’m way too emotional.
“Tiana, do you take Armani as your husband?”
“I do,” the words slip easily over my lips.
A million times, I do.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Overwhelming happiness takes over my entire being as Armani lowers his head, sealing our vows with a kiss.
Alek lets out a holler, then applause erupts.
Looking around the courtyard, I see the neighbors crowding the doorway.
Everyone came to celebrate with us.
My eyes turn back to Armani’s face to find him staring at me with awe. “Mia moglie.” He pulls me against his chest, his arms locking around me. “My fucking beautiful wife.”
I’m tipped backward, and as he kisses me again, more applause fills the air with laughter and whistles.
My smile is wide, and I tremble from all the joy bubbling in me. “My husband,” I whisper against his lips.
I give him everything I have.
My heart.
My body.
My soul.
All that I am belongs to Armani.
Chapter 30
Armani
Fuck, I’m a lucky bastard.
It’s almost impossible for me to look away from Tiana.
I’ve booked an entire restaurant in the square where we’re celebrating with our family, friends, and neighbors.
I expected the neighbors to join the celebration because we’re a close-knitted community, so I made extra arrangements with the restaurant.
Mamma has not stopped stealing Tiana from me so she can introduce her to the neighbors she hasn’t met yet.
There’s laughter, and the conversation flows, but before the food can be brought out, Mr. Aslanhov comes to me.
“We’re leaving,” he announces. Mrs. Aslanhov doesn’t look happy, but she keeps quiet.
For Tiana, Misha, and Alek’s sake, I say, “Thank you for coming today.”
His eyes are hard on me. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m happy about this wedding. You cost me millions.”
I shrug, not able to give two fucks about the loss he suffered. “Have a safe trip home.”
I give Mrs. Aslanhov a nod before walking toward my mother and Tiana.
Wrapping my arms around the front of Tiana, I pull her away from Mamma as I playfully say, “You’ve had her all day. Tiana’s mine.”
“Tsk,” Mamma huffs. “Possessive boy.”
“You raised me,” I tease her as I lead Tiana to the dance floor.
I pull her against my chest and steer her over the cobblestones.
Tiana’s face beams with delight.
“Are you happy, my wife?”
“So very much,” she answers, her eyes filled with an emotion I haven’t seen before.
Curious, I ask, “What’s that look for?”
She shakes her head, a blush staining her cheeks pink. “It’s too soon.”
