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“What’s this?” I turn to look at him.
“Our wedding.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nico
Her eyes grow wide, looking up at me.
“What do you mean? We’re getting married right now?”
“Yes, right now. Well, in a few hours. We need to get ready,” I say, pointing at one of the tents.
Before she can argue, I kiss her deeply. “I know this isn’t the wedding you deserve. You deserve the big celebration, but I can’t wait to make you mine. So, please, will you become Mrs. Delucci tonight, and we can plan a bigger and better wedding when the dust settles?”
I know I’m forcing her hand, but there’s no guarantee we’re all going to walk out alive after we face Andrew. Of course, I’m not going to tell her that. But there’s no way I’m going to die without her being mine. Surprisingly, she kisses me, to my relief.
“Yes”—she smiles—“let’s do it.”
Just then, my mother grabs her and takes her into the tent where her lunch is waiting. I’ve been on the receiving end of her fury when she’s hungry, and I wasn’t going to have that on our wedding day. She still needs to get her hair and makeup done. We had a long day ahead. I didn’t need her passing out.
I had Cosima pick out a selection of dresses. The crazy bitch thought I was asking her to pick out her own wedding dress, which, I guess, in turn, was a good thing. I could at least count on her picking out dresses Anya might like. Valentina is also an amazing tailor.
My father, brothers, and Dante wait inside my tent with whiskey in their hands. They hold their glasses up, welcoming me, hugging and kissing each other on both cheeks.
“It’s my brother’s wedding day! Who would’ve thought we’d see the day?” Bash says, pouring me a glass.
“You know,” Dante interjects, “you’re lucky Bash ended up calling me to take care of that Sanchez bastard at the club that night. Otherwise, this would be my wedding we’d be celebrating,” he jokes, popping a grape in his mouth.
I know he wants her, and it’s definitely more than mild attraction.
“Asshole,” I laugh, pretending to punch him in the stomach as he blocks me. He pulls me into a hug and pats my back.
“What? Mrs. Anya Borelli has a nice ring to it,” he taunts.
“Yeah right,” Bash snorts. “From what I’ve gathered, Nico all but pissed on her the moment he saw her. You didn’t stand a chance,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes.
He’s right, though. She was mine the moment I laid eyes on her. Never thought I’d see the day, either. Then I realized something.
“That why you decided to let her stay?” I ask my brother.
He smiles back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says in a tone that tells me he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Okay, cupid.” I tease back.
“Congrats, man,” Enzo says, clinking his glass with mine.
My father’s the last to approach me, big dark eyes like mine staring right back at me.
“This will probably bring on a shit storm, but I’m proud of you, Son. Now maybe you can make your mother’s dreams come true by popping out some grandbabies.” He laughs.
“No babies anytime soon. We just want to enjoy each other for now,” I reply.
I can’t deny it. I want to get Anya pregnant as soon as possible, but I know how that conversation will go if I even think about bringing it up at a time like this. She’ll cut off my balls and work her way to other body parts. Then she’s going to want to establish herself in the Triad, finish law school, and work to prove herself for a while. I could wait, but damn if I wasn’t excited to see her pregnant with our child. Maybe it was feral and old-school, but I couldn’t help it.
We’re all standing at the end of the altar with both the officiate and the priest so we can declare our lives as one not only in front of God but the state of New York. Money can buy you anything. We paid a substantial amount of money for the late notice, to keep their mouths shut about our location, and to forge our marriage license into being filed in New York. We didn’t want any Triad members getting our location through this. Anya’s still technically dead, but one thing at a time.
