Chapter 32 Say I Do
I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back.
The cloud-like wedding dress fit me perfectly, I looked like a fairy tale princess.
An unconventional choice, Mario had said but it was stunning.
I didn’t actually think Giovanni would allow me wear the dress after the fitting. But somehow, standing here now, fully dressed and moments away from walking down the aisle, it felt different.
My fingers found the bird necklace at my throat. I rubbed my thumb against the small metal.
"Are you really keeping that necklace?" Claire asked softly from behind me.
My grip tightened on it. "Yes."
I thought about Christabel's laugh, my mother's worried face and Marco's promise that everything would be okay.
I felt like crying. But what would that change? I was getting married already.
"It's time!" Mario announced, sweeping into the room with the other designers trailing behind him. His eyes were bright with excitement that made me want to scream.
Claire pressed the bouquet into my hands and I sucked in a deep breath, my chest tight.
You can do this. I told myself. Just get through the ceremony and survive today.
I climbed down from the bridal platform, my legs shaking slightly beneath the dress.
As we walked toward the ceremony hall, I found myself hoping that something would happen. Maybe my father would burst through the walls or Marco would appear with a rescue plan.
But nothing happened.
The doors opened and I stepped inside.
The hall wasn't crowded. Three rows of pews on each side, maybe twenty people total. All of them men with hard faces, no dobut they were from the mafia. Two couples sat among them, but neither was smiling.
The only genuinely warm expression came from the priest, standing at the altar with kind eyes.
And there, at the end of the aisle, stood Giovanni.
He looked devastating in his black suit, the silver threading catching the light. When his eyes found mine, something flickered across his face but I didn’t know what it was.
My feet moved automatically, and each step felt like walking toward my own execution.
When I reached the altar, Giovanni extended his hand.
i hesitated for just a moment before placing my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine, and he helped me up the small step to stand beside him.
But as he did, he leaned close, his lips brushing my ear.
"You're mine now," he whispered.
A shiver ran down my spine, I didn’t respond instead I kept my eyes glued to the smiling priest.
The priest began speaking and I heard the words but couldn't process them. Something about love and commitment and till death do us part.
The irony would have been funny if it weren't so horrifying.
"Do you, Giovanni De Santis, take Arya Vitale to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," Giovanni said.
"And do you, Arya Vitale, take Giovanni De Santis to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
My mouth wouldn't work. My throat was closed and I knew I couldn't say the words that would bind me to him forever.
Giovanni's hand squeezed mine.
"I—" my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I do."
"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest smiled gently. "You may kiss the bride."
Please, no, I thought desperately.
But Giovanni was already moving. His hand came up to cup my face, tilting my chin up, and then his mouth was on mine.
His lips moved against mine and when his tongue swept across my bottom lip, I gasped. He took advantage immediately, deepening the kiss, tasting me like he had every right to.
And God help her, I liked it.
He tasted like mint and something darker. His scent wrapped around me and his hand on my face was gentle despite the intensity of the kiss, his thumb stroking my cheekbone.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction. He wiped his mouth with his thumb in a dismiss way and my stomach clenched.
Then he turned to face the small crowd, keeping my hand firmly in his.
I turned as well, forcing my expression into something neutral even as my heart screamed.
Everyone rose to their feet and clapped. The sound echoed through the space.
I felt like I might shatter into a thousand pieces right there on the altar.
But instead, I smiled. Because that was what brides were supposed to do.
I could barely keep up with the congratulations that followed immediately we climbed down the altar.
Giovanni kept me close, his hand fixed on my back while he handled the conversation. When he stepped away to talk to his men, I used the opportunity to slip away.
The bathroom was empty and I leaned against the sink, my breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. Tears were burning my eyes and it felt like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.
"Don't put your head down," a voice said from behind me. "You'll pass out if you do. Keep your head up, and breathe slowly.”
I looked up to see a tall, stunning woman leaning against the wall near the door. She had dark hair that fell in waves past her shoulders, warm brown eyes, and a smile that seemed genuine.
"Like this," the woman demonstrated, breathing audibly. Match my rhythm."
I copied and after a few attempts, my breathing started to even out and my lungs no longer felt tight.
"Better?" the woman asked.
"Yes. Thank you." I studied her. "I didn't see you in the ceremony hall."
"I arrived late.” The woman pushed off the wall and extended her hand. "I'm Jasmine. And I love your dress, the smudged mascara kind of completes the look, actually… gives it that 'tragic bride' aesthetic."
Despite everything, I laughed, shaking my head fondly. “I’m Arya Vitale… sorry, I guess it’s De Santis now.”
"Ah," Jasmine said, understanding dawning in her eyes. "So you're the poor soul who married Giovanni?"
My brows knitted together. “How… how did you know?”
"Because I’m Enzo’s girlfriend, sweetie." Her smile widened. "Jasmine Anderson.”