Chapter 194 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-FOUR

Chapter 194 ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-FOUR


Isabelle woke up to the sunlight spilling across the suite, and to the realization that today was the day.

The day she would officially become Alessandro’s wife… willingly. It was a matter of choice this time around. This time she was the one choosing… the one choosing her happiness.

Her stomach fluttered not because she was nervous, but with a warm kind of anticipation she has never felt before. Today wasn't just a wedding, it was the day she would bind her heart—her life—to a man who once terrified her, then loved her so fiercely it remade her completely.

Sophia sat cross-legged on the bed beside her, already drinking champagne.

“Morning, princess,” Sophia said,  squinting dramatically. “You're glowing.”

Isabelle laughed, one hand smoothing over the curve of her stomach. “I feel like I'm glowing.”

“You are marrying the Don of La Cosa Nostra,” Sophia reminded her with a grin on her face. “Most brides get butterflies. You get bodyguards and a guest list full of criminals.”

Isabelle shifted closer and elbowed her. “Hey! I have butterflies. Plus, they're actually classy criminals.”

“Uh-huh. As long as none of them shoot anyone today, then I'll take classy.”

Something caught her eye on the nightstand, and she reached out for the note, smiled when she noticed Alessandro’s unmistakable handwriting.

“My firecracker. 

If you run now, I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth.

But I would prefer it if you stayed and married me.

“-Husband.

She smiled widely that her cheeks hurt in the process.

A little knock was heard.

They both turned towards the direction of the door.

“Come in, bride's here!” Sophia shouted. And the door opened, ushering in the glam team. 

“Guess it's time to get ready,” Isabelle muttered to herself, rising up, her hand never leaving her stomach.

An hour later, she sat in front of a large vanity mirror while the stylist worked on her hair—curling, pinning, brushing and doing whatever they thought was necessary on her hair while she sat quietly, lost in what was going on.

Her wedding dress waited on a mannequin across the room, almost ethereal in its beauty.

It was the perfect masterpiece. The perfect wedding dress. It was a fitted bodice accompanied by hand-sewn pearls, a long sleeved wedding dress made with lace, a back that dipped so dangerously low and a slit hidden beneath, giving the dress some form of sensuality.

It was everything she wanted, which was why when she saw it—she knew it was the dress. 

Slowly, they helped her into the dress and when the fabric settled on her body, Isabelle almost cried.

But Sophia beat her to it, she was crying already. “You… you look like a real princess, Izzy.”

Isabelle nodded, because staring back at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but admit that indeed, she looked like a princess.

She wasn't a captive anymore.

She wasn't a pawn… a prey.

She wasn't running.

Instead, she was walking towards a man who looked at her like she was the beginning and end of his world.

❇❇❇❇

Alessandro adjusted his cufflinks with hands that were much less steady than usual. Marco, his underboss, chuckled.

“You look like you're about to face a firing squad.”

“I'm about to marry Isabelle,” Alessandro muttered. “That's far more terrifying.”

Marco clapped his shoulder. “You're the most powerful Don in more countries than I can count. You've survived assassinations, betrayals, cartel wars… and this is what gets you?”

Alessandro gave him a look. “She’s the only thing in this entire world I can't afford to lose, and that's what makes it terrifying. Now, she will be my wife and the mother of my unborn child, I'll be so fucking terrified if anything happens to her.”

Marco sighed. “If this is what love does to you guys, then I don't want to be involved. I think I'm good.”

“You don't want to get married?”

“Nahh, I think I'll pass. No woman is pinning me down. You look insane just talking about her like that, that’s not a situation I want to be in.”

“Your loss,” Alessandro said with a smirk on his face, eyeing the white rose in his lapel—Isabelle's favourite.

Knowing fully well that today he wasn't just walking into a wedding, he was walking into the only future he’d ever let himself want.

❇❇❇❇

The wedding was a grand affair. 

The expensive venue and detailed decorations could attest to that. Lanterns lined the aisle, white petals were scattered all over, while musicians played soft strings behind walls decorated with blooming roses.

Guests filled the rows—men in suits, hiding weapons beneath their jackets, women in gowns dazzling with diamonds. Beautiful people. Dangerous people. People who for once, weren't plotting anything at all.

Alessandro stood at the altar, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the end of the aisle like he could make the bride appear.

And then the music changed, Alessandro inhaled deeply.

Isabelle stepped into view, and time suddenly seemed to have stopped around him. She stood alone, because she told him that she wanted to walk down their aisle alone.

He watched her as if he dared to look away, she might just evaporate into thin air. He watched as she turned and smiled at Katherine, her mother before her eyes settled on him.

Marco whispered beside him, “Breathe, boss.”

But he couldn't, he was struggling.

For some reason, light shone all over her in his eyes. She walked like she was elegance personified, her hand resting gently on her stomach, a reminder of the tiny life they had created, the future that waited for them.

Alessandro’s jaw flexed, his eyes felt like they were burning. He blinked once, then twice, and he realized this wasn't a dream.

It was real.

When Isabelle reached him, he didn't wait, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles like she was sacred, pride swelling within him.

“Mi hai tolto il fiato, angelo,” he mouthed the words for only her to hear.

She blushed when she remembered the meaning—You've taken my breath away, angel.

The main ceremony began in earnest with the officiant laying out prayers and blessings till it got to Isabelle saying her vows.

“Alessandro, when we first met, I thought you were the end of my world. And in a way, you were. I can't even explain how, but you ended the world where I was afraid… afraid of whatever lurks in the dark, because I know you would find me. You always do. You ended the world where I wasn't sure of myself, and gave me a chaotic one. One with guns and knives…”

The priest coughed, uncomfortable with that statement but it didn't deter her.

“You broke me apart… and then you didn't just put me back together, you made me stronger. You loved when I was fighting you. You protected me when I didn't need protection. And now… you're the safest place I've ever known.”

He swallowed hard, eyes burning into hers.

She continued, “I vow to love the man beneath the title… the man with the scars. I vow to stand by you, even when the world tries to tear you down. And I vow to spend the rest of my life choosing you. Because today, I am not becoming your possession. I am becoming your partner.”

He lifted her hands in his, thumbs brushing her wrists in soothing circles.

Alessandro cleared his throat before he started, “Isabelle, you were supposed to be my enemy.”

People—women to be precise, chuckled softly.

He didn't.

“You were supposed to be leverage, a symbol of vengeance, a weakness I couldn't afford.” His voice dropped lower. “But you became my heart's keeper.”

Isabelle let out a little whimper.

“I've lived my life with my hands stained in blood, I never expected them to hold something like you. I never believed I could hold something so pure without destroying it.

He cupped her cheek gently. “But you never broke, no matter how much I tried. You fought me, challenged me… even ran from me. You showed me what love really is… what it feels like. You showed me that love is choosing someone even when it terrifies you.”

He paused, “I vow to be the man you believe I can be. I vow to protect you with everything I am. To love you fiercely. To honour you ruthlessly. To be gentle with your heart, and merciless to anything that tries to harm you. And I vow to raise our child in a world where they will only ever know love, not fear.”

He exhaled deeply, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re my firecracker, Isabelle. My equal, my wife. And I will love you till the last bullet, the last breath, the last beat of my heart. I love you, baby girl.”

A tear slid down her cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb and kissed her palm. Their eyes locked on each other, totally forgetting where they were.

“You may kiss your bride,” the officiant said.

Alessandro didn't hesitate. He pulled her in, one hand at her waist, the other cradling the back of her neck, kissing her with tenderness that belied every violent thing he had ever done.

The crowd erupted into an applause, but Alessandro didn't hear it. He didn't even look at them.

Because, his eyes were on the woman who turned a kingpin into a husband.

⚛~⚛~⚛~⚛

The reception was filled with music, laughter, clinking glasses. But Alessandro only cared about one thing—Isabelle's hand in his, his head on her shoulder as they danced beneath chandeliers.

“You're mine now,” she whispered mischievously.

“I always was.”

“I still can’t believe we’re going to parents.”

His eyes softened with a reverence he would never show anyone else. Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “Our child will know nothing but love from me,” he murmured. 

“You already love them,” she teased.

“I loved them the moment I loved you. I love you and everything that comes with you.”

She melted against him.

And as fireworks lit the sky above, explosions of gold, red and white, Alessandro held his wife and whispered, “This life, Isabelle… this entire empire… it's yours now. Always.”

He said it with everything in him. Because it wasn’t just the Don who got married today,

Alessandro did.

And Isabelle wasn't just his firecracker, she was his queen.

His future.

His forever.