Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six
Frankie stood at the end of the aisle, his vision darkened thanks to the sunglasses over his eyes. His mouth was parted as he took in small, shallow breaths to quell the nausea.

“I cannot believe you let me drink that much,” Frankie grumbled, turning his head to see the three traitors standing behind him wearing similar shades and then turning to the leader of them all, standing in the center of the flower arch with his hands shoved in his pockets, his own sunglasses slightly askew, his tie crooked, and a light five o’clock shadow coating his cheeks.

“Frankie,” Accardi said, licking his lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Yeah, what else were we supposed to do?” Louis asked behind him. “Stick our face in the stripper’s tits like Leo?”

Leo whipped around and then had to catch himself. “You shut your fucking mouth.” Leo laughed nervously and looked to the front row, where all of their women sat. “He’s joking, sweetheart. Isn’t that right, Louis?”

“Yeah, totally,” Louis said, snickering.

Frankie glanced over to the women. Lucy was glaring, her eyes shifting between the two men, trying to decide who to believe. Her hand smoothed over her massively pregnant belly, probably the only thing keeping her from getting out of her chair and dragging Leo out by his ear for an explanation. Jada sat beside Lucy, rolling her eyes at Louis’ antics. She probably went to a strip club on the regular, so her husband coming home with glitter between his teeth wouldn’t send her over the edge. From what he’d heard, it’d probably lead to some kinky stuff at Mirrors.

Then, at the end of the row, seated beside Frankie’s mother was Gen, the Donna herself. She smiled up at Frankie with tears in her eyes… probably another symptom of large-belly-syndrome. Her teary eyes turned to her husband, who was standing in as officiant due to Gloria and Frankie deciding they wanted something a bit more… them this go-around. The only sign Accardi noticed her glance was the slight tilting of his mouth on one side. Surely, to Gen, it was equal to him getting down on his knees and kissing her feet.

After several more, far too long minutes baking in the New York sun, the music started to play. Everyone turned to watch the bridesmaids float down the aisle. Bea came first, smiling subtly as she walked up toward the flower arch. Then came Rita and lastly, on a pair of crutches, her bouquet clutched between her teeth: Nora. She stopped in front of the arch long enough to adjust her crutches under her arms and stick her middle finger up at Frankie. He rolled his eyes behind his glasses. She was apparently still upset about his mother tearing through her apartment.

The music shifted, and Frankie’s insides twisted. He took off his sunglasses and motioned for the others to do the same. Conor, who had thus far spoken five words all morning, groaned as he took the glasses off and squinted into the light. Frankie was about to knock him in the back of the head when the crowd stood up. He looked down the aisle and lost all train of thought. He’d done this before. He’d seen his bride there, at the end of an aisle, glowing as she readied herself to bind her life to his forever.

Yet as Gloria Rubanov took the first step, her arm looped through his father’s, he found himself gravitating toward her. Both Accardi and Leo reached a hand out to snag his jacket and hold him in place, making everyone in the crowd not glued to the woman coming toward him chuckle. She was wearing a dress similar to the first one she’d worn; however, this one seemed to be bejeweled with small diamonds that caught the light and reflected against her skin. Her hair was completely up, too, showing off the elegant slope of her neck and shoulders. Though the dress covered nearly all of her skin, it only made her more desirable, more tempting to devour.

Gloria stopped a few feet away from him. His father held on tightly to her arm as if he still wasn’t sure this beauty was making the right decision. She probably wasn’t, but Frankie knew better than to talk himself out of a good thing. Accardi gave a small smile and a nod to Frank Senior, who patted Gloria’s hand softly. Gloria stood up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, thanking him for the walk. He gave her another little pat, his face blooming red and his eyes misty. He took her hand and held it out for Frankie.

“You’ll take care of her, Son. Don’t just promise God, promise me,” he warned.

“I promise, Dad. Whatever you want, just let me have her,” Frankie said, too entranced with Gloria to spare him a glance.

“In that case, maybe…”

The crowd chuckled, and Frankie’s mother stepped forward to pull her husband away. As Gloria stepped up, Frankie lifted her hand to his mouth, choosing to be good this time and save the sealing of their lips for when it mattered.

Accardi cleared his throat. “As you may have noticed, Frankie and Gloria have decided to do things a bit differently this time around. No ‘handing over of the bride,’ no long prayers, no explosives… We hope.”

The crowd laughed and applauded in agreement.

“I have known Frankie Donati for many years, and since I am not considered the best man and the duty of speeches will fall to someone else, I want to take this opportunity to say that since Frankie has met Gloria Rubanov, he’s become the most distracted, difficult to work with, reckless man in love I’ve ever known. Second only, perhaps, to the men standing around him,” Matteo said. “We all think we know who we are, deep down, and no one can change that. Then we meet our soulmate and… they show us exactly how wrong we were to think anything at all. I wish absolutely nothing but the best for these two people. Two people who fit more beautifully together than anyone I’ve ever met. I dare to say even more than my own wife and I.”

“Hey!” Gen called out playfully.

Frankie smiled down at Gloria, whose face had maintained a pleasant rosy hue from the moment she’d started walking down the aisle.

“In the tradition of making sure we don’t have a repeat of what happened the last time these two tried to tie the knot, they have decided to recite their own vows. Lord, please tell me Frankie Donati was smart enough to use a template online.” With that, Matteo stepped back and gestured for them to go ahead.

“Vixen, unfortunately for you and everyone present, I did not use a template online,” Frankie began, to which several people groaned. Gloria smiled brighter just as he knew she would. “I love you. I have loved you since the moment I saw you clamp your thighs around that coward’s throat.” A murmur swept through the crowd, and the color on Gloria’s face heightened as she glanced around. “Don’t worry, everyone, it’s not what you think,” he assured the crowd while maintaining his singular focus. “I am not an easy man. I don’t take kindly to disrespect. I find fear is the best currency, and I can never seem to keep my mouth shut for more than a few minutes at a time.”

He took a step closer to her and licked his lips. “There is a lot about our lives that cannot be predicted. So many scenarios that can go wrong, turn us on our heads, surprise us,” he continued. Gloria’s brow furrowed at his words. “So there isn’t a lot I can promise you. But the few things I can? I will never stop loving you. I will never stop protecting you, cherishing you.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “Wanting you. I’ll never turn away from you. Above all that, I would lay my life down for yours, without a second thought. I would wade through a sea of gunfire, spend my days laying down explosives to clear a path for you, and put your family above everything else. I vow to you, Gloria Rubanov, to be your man, to see through your objectives as a husband, and as a second. I will bring peace to your…”

“Stop,” Gloria demanded, ripping her hand out of his to instead cup them with her own. Frankie’s mouth hung open, and everyone in the crowd went silent. Gloria dropped her head and shook it. “Please, stop saying those things.”

“Gloria…”

She looked up, and tears shimmered in her eyes. “What you’re saying, what you’re vowing to me…” She licked her lips and gripped his hands desperately. “It’s not what I want.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Then what do you want? We don’t have to get married. We can just have a party. The booze are paid for. We could elope or just be ‘partners’ and…”

“No, no, I want to marry you, Frankie Donati,” she assured him with a soft chuckle. Frankie’s shoulders deflated as he let out a slow, measured breath with the crowd.

“Okay… Do you want to write my vows for me then? Are they that bad?”

Gloria laughed, erasing further tension from the room. She bit her lip and looked up at him, the first tear escaping down her cheek. “No, everything you said was beautiful, but all of that stuff? About giving up your life, laying down explosives?” She shook her head. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then tell me, what is it you want, Gloria? I’ll give you anything.”

Gloria looked down at her hands. Frankie forced her to break her grip on his hands so that he could cup her cheeks.

“I’m not what one may consider ‘sober,’ at present, Vixen, so my deduction skills are a bit off and I think sticking you with a needle to discern the truth may be frowned upon on your wedding day. You need to tell me,” he ordered.

“What if…” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “What if I wanted to be the person I always wanted to be?”

“Uhhhkay?”

“I mean, what if I don’t want to…” She closed her eyes. “What if I don’t want to be Pakhan?” she asked. There was a stir in the audience. “What if all of these things snowballed together and I got caught up in revenge and wanting freedom and ended up being semi good at it to the point where I figured…” Gloria shrugged. “Well, I might as well stick with it? What if…” She sighed as though she’d just released a massive weight. She opened her eyes and smiled softly up at him. “What if instead of killing people, I wanted to heal them. What if I just wanted to be your wife with a boring job and a boring life… in our penthouse apartment?” she asked.

Frankie pursed his lips and looked down at their intertwined hands. “Hmm,” he hummed. “You’re kinda throwing a curve ball at me here, Vixen,” he told her. Gloria didn’t interrupt; she merely waited. He leaned forward and whispered so no one else could hear, “Do I have to stop killing people and take on a boring job?” Gloria’s smile crinkled the corners of her eyes as she shook her head. Frankie pursed his lips to the side and closed one eye as he looked at her. Then he turned his gaze to Accardi, who, upon seeing his face, developed a smirk as though he’d seen this whole thing coming from the very start. “It all depends, I guess. That offer still stand, Matteo?”

“Thank fuck,” Matteo said, relieved beyond belief.

Frankie looked back at Gloria. “Like I said, Vixen, anything you want.” He leaned in to kiss her, no longer caring if this was the right part in the ceremony to do so. When only a hair's breadth from touching her lips, though, he stopped. “Except for the boring life part. I want a long, exciting life with you by my side. That’s kinda non-negotiable.”

Gloria smiled big. “If you insist,” she agreed before throwing her arms around his neck and sealing their vows with a kiss all on her own. 

Frankie wrapped his arms around her waist and bent backward, hauling her feet off the ground as he deepened the kiss. Around them, the crowd stood and clapped. She tasted of his whiskey… or maybe it was the whiskey still on his tongue he was savoring. Either way, unlike their first kiss, her lips tasted nothing of blood… and he’d make sure they never would again.

The End