Antonio
Valentino didn’t bother to give her more than two weeks. Two weeks to plan a wedding that’s more a spectacle than a celebration. But that’s who he is—always desperate to claim what he believes is his, even if it was never meant to be. Control, wealth, Alessia—they’re nothing but conquests, pieces to be owned, not cherished.
While Val’s busy building his perceived empire, the rest of us are left scrambling, working around the clock to keep the business running while making sure this damn wedding goes off without a hitch.
Carinwood Estate is a stunning place, sprawling and elegant, set just outside the city. I’ve heard the whispers. Aunt Domenica wasn’t exactly happy about the choice of venue. She would’ve preferred the ceremony to take place at the family church. But it’s the one thing Alessia insisted on.
My mind drifts back to that early fall day, when Alessia and I sat under the bleachers in our usual spot. The air was cool, carrying the first hints of autumn. A light breeze kept blowing her dark hair across her face. I can still see her tucking it behind her ear as she smiled at me. In that moment if felt like nothing else mattered—it was only me, her, and the way she made everything feel right.
"Do you ever think about what your wedding would be like?" she asks, catching me off guard.
"Not really," I shrug. "Never figured I'd have a say in it."
Alessia was always quiet and thoughtful. She rarely talked about the future, but for some reason, that day, she was different. Lighter. Peaceful.
“I want to get married in Italy. By the sea,” she says, a dreamy quality in her voice. “The sun would be setting just as we said our vows.
She looks up at me, her dark eyes full of hope, as though she could see the scene unfolding before her. I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Who’s standing there with you?” I ask, the words slipping out.
But then we were interrupted. The coach’s whistle cut through the air, signaling the end of football practice. A group of guys jogged past, shouting and laughing, and the moment shattered, disappearing as if it had never happened. Just like that, our conversation was left unfinished.
I never got to hear who the groom in her daydream was. I always hoped she would’ve said my name, but then again, I never deserved to be anyone’s choice. Not then, and certainly not now.
The sound of a loud crash snaps me back to the present. My head jerks toward the noise, and I hurry around the corner. A young woman is kneeling on the ground, frantically picking up the pieces of a shattered centerpiece. Her hands tremble as she tries to clean up the mess, clearly upset. Without thinking, I rush over to help her.
“Let me get that for you.” I crouch down to pick up the larger pieces.
“You don’t have to do that, sir,” she replies, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe I was so careless.” A tear trickles down her cheek, but she quickly swipes it away.
“It was an accident,” I offer, trying to soothe her.
“My boss won’t see it that way. He’s going to take this out of my pay.” Her hands shake as she continues gathering the broken pieces.
“You ruined one of our centerpieces?” Valentino’s voice booms, causing heads to turn.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the girl stammers, shrinking under his glare.
“Sorry won’t replace this,” he growls, stepping closer, glass crunching under his shoes. “Do you know how much this costs?”
I rise to my feet, putting myself protectively between the girl and Valentino. “It was an accident. Back off.”
“Look at playing the saint again,” Valentino sneers, crossing his arms with a mocking grin.
“I’m just trying to be a decent person. She’s upset enough without you making it worse.”
“In our business, kind saints don’t last long,” he retorts, stepping closer as if to challenge me.
“Maybe,” I say evenly, refusing to rise to his bait. “But even in our world, respect goes a long way.”
“Caring too much is a quick path to an early grave, cousin,” Valentino says, his voice lowering. His words more pointed as his frustration begins to show through. “True strength is gained through fear. One day, you’ll learn.”
“Everyone chooses their own path,” I say with a slight shrug. “I choose respect.”
“That’s why I’m a leader, and you aren’t.” He punctuates each word with a jab of his finger at my chest. Then, his attention shifts back to the girl. “Get this mess cleaned up,” he snaps before turning on his heel and walking away.
For a moment, no one moves. It’s as if even breathing too loudly might draw his wrath back. The staff exchange wary glances, fear clear in their eyes.
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly to dispel the lingering unease. “It’s alright,” I assure her. “He’s gone.”
Little by little, the staff members return to their tasks, though their movements are noticeably more cautious. The girl looks up, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
“I’ll speak with your boss,” I assure her. “If he insists on being reimbursed, I’ll take care of it.”
Her eyes widen. “You don’t have to do that.”
I offer a reassuring smile. “I want to. It’s the right thing to do.”
She exhales softly, her relief visible in the way her shoulders drop. “Thank you.”
I nod, meeting her gaze. “No need to thank me. Let’s just get this cleaned up.”
As we work, I feel the eyes of the staff on us, their silent appreciation evident. It’s a small victory, but in this world where fear often reigns supreme, a little kindness goes a long way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Alessia watching from a distance. Her expression is a complex mix of relief, sadness, and something else I can’t quite place. Our eyes meet briefly, and she mouths, thank you . Before I can react, she turns and disappears.
As I stand in the middle of this extravagant venue, watching the staff fall back into perfect synchronization, I can’t help but be reminded that although this venue is beautiful, it’s not the wedding Alessia dreamt of.
It’s not Italy and there’s no sea.