by Xavier Neal
My eyes slowly lift back to hers, unsure I want to wear something she wore when she was forced into the situation I’m entering willingly.
“Gianozzo spent way too much on them, but he insisted I have something special to celebrate finally marrying Antonio.”
There’s no stopping the sweet smile that slips onto my face. “You wore these when you married for love.”
“Sì.” Gia’s hand warmly cups my cheek. “I would never offer you something I acquired during my time with Benedict. I actually…got rid of everything. I wanted no ties to him other than my son and the love of my life.” As her touch falls back to her side, she adds, “Besides, his gifts always felt…cursed in a sense. I swear nothing good ever came to me when I was wearing one.” Her fingers fold together in front of her alongside a brief pause. “There’s no…requirement to wear the pearls. I just-”
“I want to,” my voice asserts in a whisper. “It would be an honor.” Extending the object back to her, I ask, “Would you put it on for me?”
“Of course. That,” she leans forward with lifted eyebrows and a mischievous grin, “would be an honor.”
Gia resumes her hold on the item while I face the mirror.
It doesn’t take long for her to retrieve the necklace nor does an extensive amount of time pass during the process of putting it on; however, the entire moment seems to move in slow motion. I intently watch every action and relish the feelings of a motherly moment I haven’t had since my aunt passed. Tears tickle the corners of my lid, threatening to test the waterproofness of my mascara, yet I fight back determined not to sob over the sentimentality of this scene.
From our first meeting, it was clear to her that we would be family.
That she saw something in me she deemed worthy of being in her family.
Acceptance at that level…of that magnitude is life changing.
And, her willingness to pick up the parental pen whenever she sees it needs to be wielded, simply adds to the reasons why I know spending forever with Benicio is the best decision I’ll ever make.
Post our jewelry session during which I also put on a pair of pearl earrings, we endure several shots solo and together with the wedding photographer. Walter, to my surprise, has different types of input regarding specific positions he’s certain Benicio will want, while Tai joyfully delivers his input whenever requested.
Unlike Tao, who it felt like it took forever to pry out personality, Tai lets his run freely as long as he’s not under the direct scrutiny of the man I am less than an hour from marrying.
Our limo ride is packed with last minute touch ups to faces, check lists of the necessities, like Benicio’s wedding ring, and Cerise questioning whether or not she should include the details of how he scared off Ranger the first time they met. Simply bringing him up causes her to grump over how he ghosted them completely after that but that even Sherrod is okay with it since Beni’s the better man.
Better man?
Absolutely.
Scarier man?
Definitely.
At Bennvilla’s prestigious and multi-award-winning private event venue, we are instantly met by the wedding director at the entrance. She fusses about us barely being on time prior to having members of her team usher Gia, Felia, and Walter to their seats in the ceremony area I am vaguely familiar with.
Dress rehearsal last night allowed me a glimpse of the lavish décor my fiancé arranged, yet I couldn’t ignore the niggling in the back of mind that was trying to warn me I wouldn’t be fully prepared for all the extremes he’s probably gone to.
“Flowers!” the director, Shronda, shouts to someone over her shoulder. “Bride and Bridesmaid!”
“Are we at my wedding or boot camp?” I mumble under my breath to Cerise.
“Same shit it seems.”
We indulge in short snickers; however, mine are extended by Miko’s added agreement, “Ha un corno da nebbia incorporato.”
She has a built-in foghorn.
As if the curvaceous, umber-colored skin woman understands exactly what he said, she narrows her dark-eyed glare at him.
“Tai, you can go ahead and take your seat,” Miko announces alongside a gesture to the doors at the end of the hall. “I’ve got protecting the bride covered for the next little bit.”
Tai nods his understanding and darts the same direction the other guests disappeared.
My ability to bestow upon him comments and compliments is ceased by a fluffy, gorgeous bouquet littered with our wedding colors thrust into my clutches. There’s no stopping the grin that grows or my face from falling to inhale the heavenly scent.
“Mr. Bennett insisted on something that spoke seasonal and elegant and incorporated the primary color pallet,” Shronda casually explains. “The hardest part was getting the boutonnieres for the groomsmen to match accordingly. This whole champagne, cream color but wanting the bouquet colors spread out evenly kept the local florist up for days trying to perfect it.”
I offer her a warm expression of approval. “Everything so far looks amazing.”
“Sembro il più sorprendente,” Miko playfully declares.
I look the most amazing.
The glare he’s tossed has him correcting, “Oltre a te ovviamente.”
Besides you, of course.
“Sei incredibile.”
You look incredible.
My steady, skeptical stare is met by an impish shrug. “È vero. Oggi sto meglio di Benicio.”
It's true. I look better than Benicio today.
“Doubtful,” I immediately retort. “He’d openly admit his favorite sandwich in a public press conference before being upstaged by his best friend on his wedding day.”
Miko chortles, tugs at the sleeves of his jacket, and mumbles, “Possibilmente.”
“Are we ready?” Shronda inserts herself back into the conversation.
He meets her eyes and asks, “Do you have my-”
“Right!” She squawks loudly and sends new instructions to her assistant. “Retrieve Mr. Tritelli’s request while I escort Cerise to the doors where her groomsman is waiting, and cue the music to begin.”
My best friend gives me a quick hand squeeze and a whispered, “Love you.”
The two of them hustle to the end of the hall where the ceremony is being held leaving me to privately ask, “What exactly did you request?”
Miko’s smile transposes to one that fills me with dread.
“Did you get Benicio’s approval first?”
Teeth are flashed at the same time he shakes his head.
Before my interrogation can continue, the assistant hands him an item that inspires a sarcastic stare to arise. “Really? A pimp cane?”
“A sword cane, per tua informazione,” for your information, “which is definitely why I look better than your future husband today. I mean come on,” he flaunts it around, “look at this shit!”
“Why…?” I don’t stop the headshaking that occurs. “Why do you need a cane?”
“It was Luther’s.”
His admission stumbles my jaw to the ground.
“I know he can’t be here to officially walk you down the aisle, but I don’t know, I…I figured having a piece of him here to assist would be better than none of him, sì?”
A surge of tears blurs my vision without reluctance.
“Oh, no…,” Miko rushes out in an obvious panic, “no, no, no. Niente di tutto questo.”
None of that.
“Beni will literally kill me if he finds out I made you cry.”
My arms lovingly throw themselves around him.
Unlike in our earlier days, he doesn’t hesitate to hug me. He tangles his frame around mine providing the strength I need in silence.
His thoughtfulness to include Dad in the most magical moment I’ve ever had has me sobbing out a soft, “Grazie.” Between sniffles intended to stop the crying, I repeat, “Grazie mille, Miko.”
“Prego,” he quietly coos while continuing to hold me. “Sei
una famiglia, Chantal. Ci sarò sempre per te. Sarò sempre qui per la famiglia.”
You are family, Chantal. I will always be here for you. I will always be here for the family.
I let more tears fall over the proclamation and squeeze him closer to me.
We can’t lose Miko, too.
We can’t.
I know Beni believes there’s nothing we can do, that Miko himself is ready to go, but I’m not ready to give up on having him around.
I’m not ready to give up the one other man in my life, besides my fiancé, I know loves me in immeasurable ways.
Our ended hug session is proceeded by me hastily drying my face in the nearest bathroom. Once I’m certain I look ready to walk down the aisle, again, I nod at my reflection, impressed the makeup wasn’t smudged at all.
Arm in arm, the two of us walk the length of the hallway in no real rush, despite Shronda tapping her high-heeled foot in impatience. We playfully tease one another about our attire in Italian. He insists it’s good my top is a cream color since it’ll be easier to hide my inevitable food stains, and I tease it’s best he’s not wearing a tie because that would make it easier for Beni to strangle him with when he, inevitably, discovers Miko making out with a member of the serving staff.
The grand entrance we make at the beginning of the wedding march is issued by the double doors being opened. Dario and Uncle Gianozzo each stand beside one proudly and grin adoringly.
We slowly stroll the curved white carpet that possesses the faintest glimmers as flashes flicker all around us. Miko keeps me tucked close by one arm and a tight hold on Dad’s cane using his other hand.
I let my eyes survey the stunning situation to the best of my ability, mentally noting the way the beautiful lights and flowers dangling from above match those that are attached to the seating arrangements. Face after face I’m unfamiliar with watching my movements, but it isn’t until I see the one I’m excited to spend forever with that the nervousness of being gawked at fades away.
Benicio’s hazel gaze is wide.
Glossy.
His jaw cracked.
Unmoving.
Dazed would be the appropriate label in any other circumstances; however, it doesn’t seem powerful enough to express the adoring trance he appears to be trapped in.
Miko settles me into the space across from his best friend and slips an innocent kiss on my cheek that seems to snap him out of his stupor, given the growl that instantly seeps free. My fiancé promptly takes one hand into his, places a possessive kiss on the back of it, and firmly plants his eyes into mine.
“Sei mio, Mia Bella,” he quietly purrs, “Solo mio.”
You are mine. Only mine.
“Per un'eternità.”
For an eternity.
“Si, Amore mio.” A bashful blush brightens my cheeks as I sweetly reassure him in his favorite way. “Yes, my love.” I shoot him a slightly sassy look. “Saying it in two languages makes it extra true, remember?”
Elation expands his smirk.
“I am all yours.” He lifts my hand to deliver another kiss where the ring will go, inspiring me to add, “Per un'eternità.”
The waiting priest expresses his displeasure over the premarital touching via a deep throat clearing.
My fiancé removes his hold yet continues his loving leering, “Puoi iniziare.”
You may begin.
There’s a small announcement to the guests to be seated followed by him promptly starting a traditional opening. While his words should be where my focus lies, I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from Beni’s.
I don’t want my attention anywhere else.
I don’t want to miss a single sweet expression on his face or for him to miss a single one on mine during this once in a lifetime union.
I don’t want any doubt that this is where I want to be.
That I am choosing to be here.
With him.
As one until our dying breaths.
We will be the new Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, although our journey will be different than his parents’ was.
It’ll be shrouded in more than just loyalty, but love.
Love that I want him to see and feel every time he looks into my eyes from this moment forward.
Chapter 22
I tuck a strand of hair behind Chantal’s ear as the fire roars behind us. She slightly shivers, prompting me to ask, “Fredda?”
The head shake I’m given is immediate but unconvincing.
“Mia Bella…”
“You worry too much,” she sweetly scolds at the same time she scoots closer to me.
“You worry too little,” I playfully taunt, unable to keep my fingers off of her. They caress her perfectly painted cheek. Her chin. The other side. Eventually, they drift downward along the lace covering her arms, admiring the surprisingly soft way the fabric feels. “Have I told you how beautiful you look like this?”
She turns her face from where our wedding guests are drunkenly dancing to meet my gaze. “Beautiful as the bride or beautiful as your wife?”
“Sì.”
Laughter immediately springs free, and my mouth pounces hers to taste it. It’s brief, but the swipes taken successfully provide a smidgen of satisfaction that will have to do until I can get her out of this reception and to our hotel suite in Keleston.
If she weren’t such a screamer, I would entertain the notion of taking her in the nearest coat closet.
When I pull back, my fingers resume their adoring touches, this time on her side. “You have taught me to expect the unexpected, Mia Bella.”
Her eyebrows lift to the rose-covered ceiling in question.
“I imagined you in something more traditional for the evening,” I casually confess on a caress of her thigh, “yet when those doors opened, I could hardly fathom the blinding vision that you were. This…ensemble,” my chin tips towards it, “is perfect. You call the attention to every gaze in the room. Your gorgeous skin that only I want to be able to see is covered but teases to the beauty underneath with the way it dips in the back. It’s fitted without being trashy or over the top. Elegance isn’t sacrificed for opulence. It’s formal but freeing. You can move as you please without assistance or worries, and that adds an unmistakable glow to your already intoxicating demeanor…And, it’s so intoxicating,” I growl and inch my mouth closer, “that I’ve had to steer clear of the champagne for fear of being drunk at my own wedding.”
The corners of her lips curl upward on a gentle tug of my jacket. “If I didn’t know any better, Mr. Bennett, I would say you’re trying to get me into bed.”
“Funziona?”
Is it working?
Chantal giggles while letting her hot breath feather my skin, “Maybe…”
“What if I add how much I love your confidence? How incredible it is to see you walk into a room and the world unsure if they should cower in fear or swoon in admiration?” I deliver a single stroke along her jawbone to encourage her to kiss me. “You are a queen, Mia Bella. Non dimenticarlo mai.”
Never forget it.
“La tua regina,” she sexily purrs, prompting my cock to thump against my pants in agreement.
Your queen.
My mouth lightly brushes hers again. “Il mio tutto.”
My everything.
Our tongues barely touch before their rendezvous is interrupted.
“Shrimp wrapped in bacon,” my best friend hums between bites. “Shrimp wrapped in fucking prosciutto. Shrimp stuffed with fucking crab.” He groans at the same time he drops into the seat beside me. “It’s like you blessed me with the best early Christmas gift a man could ever want.”
“Bacon?” My wife sneers at her official in-law. “Bacon is seriously the best gift you could ever want for Christmas? Do you have any idea how low your standards are?”
“Quite low, Mia Bella. It is what keeps his sex life so active.”
“That and a diet rich in natural aphrodisiacs.” Miko points to his practically empty pl
ate. “Speaking of, the angels on horseback,” another dramatically loud groan is expelled, “phenomenal.”
“I haven’t had a chance to try one yet.”
Primarily due to the amount of ass kissing that had to be accomplished prior to the toasts, our first dance, and the cutting of the cake.
“What the hell are angels on horseback?!” Chantal squawks in obvious confusion.
My head playfully cocks to the side. “Mio Dio, how could I marry someone who doesn’t know what angels on horseback are?”
Her eyes twitch a glare that’s proceeded with a snarky smirk. “Because she knows your dirty little sandwich secret and is now not afraid to use it during your conversational food mocking, Mr. Snob.”
I’m left slightly speechless; however, Miko bursts into taunting laughter.
Any chance to explain what the dish is, is unanticipatedly ended by a familiar face arriving at our table. “Good evening, Mr. Bennett. Mrs. Bennett.” Echo Kinnaman, Ember’s twin, warmly greets us. “I just wanted to stop by on my way out and officially congratulate you. It was a beautiful ceremony. And, you…,” his gaze swings to Chantal, “you’re quite the beautiful bride.”
Echo’s stare lingers too long for my liking, particularly on her slightly protruding chest. “Be grateful I don’t want to ruin my wife’s special day by having your eyes removed in the middle of it, Mr. Kinnaman.”
He snaps his focus back to me igniting another low round of chuckles from my best friend.
“Thank you for your…sentiments,” I casually state in a dismal nature. “Send your sister my regards. Her absence was noted.”
“I will,” he quickly assures. “She’s still feeling a bit…indisposed.”
“I imagine so.”
Having your father carve out a hunk of flesh from your left leg can do that to a person.
He, along with the other Dons, fulfilled the request, accordingly. There were tears and screams. Pleads and scared promises to do anything possible not to meet that fate. By the end of it all, it was not only clear who stood where in our world but that everyone would think twice about questioning my decisions, again.
Each of the families are here – including the Lamarches – but their daughters are not.
