Chapter 27 Regina
Regina
“I can’t believe you convinced a priest to marry us.”
My voice carries across the villa’s sun-drenched grounds, where white chairs are arranged in neat rows facing the sea. Mauricio adjusts his tie—charcoal gray that matches his eyes—and shoots me a look that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.
“I didn’t convince him. I paid him.” His correction is matter-of-fact. “There’s a difference. Father Benedetto understands that some unions are blessed by circumstances rather than conventional virtue.”
“How romantic.” But I’m smiling, watching Loriana fuss with the flower arrangements while Simeone holds baby Alessandro on his hip. “You bribed a priest to officiate our wedding.”
“I prefer to think of it as a generous donation to his parish.” Mauricio crosses to me, hands finding my waist. “Besides, he’s known me since prison. If anyone understands that even reformed criminals deserve happiness, it’s Father Benedetto.”
“Reformed criminals getting married in a Sicilian villa overlooking the Mediterranean.” I smooth his lapels, unnecessary but needing the contact. “Very dramatic. Very us.”
“Exactly.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Now stop second-guessing everything and go get ready. David’s already drinking the good wine, Tiziano keeps checking his watch like he has somewhere more important to be, and I’d really like to marry you before sunset.
But you are delaying because you want the lighting to be perfect for the photos. ”
“I would never—”
“You absolutely would.” But he’s grinning, that dangerous smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “You’ve reorganized the seating arrangement three times this morning. Go. Get dressed. Become my wife before you find something else to optimize.”
I kiss him, then head inside where my dress waits. Simple ivory silk that flows like water, nothing like the elaborate gown Sabino would have insisted on if he’d lived to see me married. This is mine. Chosen. Perfect.
Loriana appears in the doorway as I’m fastening the last button. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I study my reflection, seeing a woman I barely recognize—happy, free, about to marry someone she chose and loves. “And thank you for being here. I know it’s a long trip with Alessandro—”
“Are you kidding?” She settles onto the bed, bouncing slightly to keep the baby entertained. “Simeone’s been insufferable about this wedding since Mauricio called. His best friend is finally settling down? He wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Mauricio’s lucky to have him.”
“They’re lucky to have each other.” Her expression softens. “Fifteen years Simeone waited, hoping Mauricio would survive prison. And now he gets to watch him get married. It means more than you probably realize.”
A knock interrupts before I can respond. Tiziano’s voice carries through the door. “Regina? There’s someone here. Simeone invited him as a gift.”
I exchange glances with Loriana, then open the door to find—
“Giordano?”
He stands in the hallway looking older, thinner, wearing clothes that don’t quite fit his frame. But his eyes are the same—steady, protective, carrying years of watching over me when no one else would.
“Regina.” His voice cracks slightly. “You look... I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I cross the distance between us in three steps, pulling him into an embrace that speaks of shared history and survival. “How are you here? Witness protection—”
“Simeone.” Giordano’s smile is tired but genuine.
“Apparently, your fiancé’s best friend has connections that can track people who don’t want to be found.
He contacted my handler, explained the situation, and got permission for me to attend under supervision.
” He gestures to a man standing discreetly down the hall.
“That’s Marshal Cooper. He’ll be watching to make sure I don’t cause problems.”
“You could never cause problems.” I pull back, studying his face. “Are you okay? Is the program treating you well?”
“Well enough.” His shrug is noncommittal. “New city, new name, new life. It’s strange but safe. Better than I deserve after everything I did for your father.”
“Everything you did to survive while protecting me,” I correct firmly. “Don’t diminish that, Giordano. You saved me more times than I can count.”
“And you saved me by including me in that deal. I couldn’t believe my luck when the prosecutor decided not to send me to prison.” He reaches out, touching my arm gently. “I’m alive and free because you fought for me. That’s not something I’ll forget.”
Loriana clears her throat diplomatically. “I’ll give you two a moment. Ceremony starts in fifteen minutes, Regina.”
She slips out with Alessandro, leaving Giordano and me in weighted silence.
“I have something to tell you,” he says finally. “Simeone asked me to. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo Di Noto. Your former fiancé?” Giordano’s smile turns grim. “He’s in prison. Turns out Detective Borghese found evidence connecting him to several of Sabino’s operations. Money laundering, mostly. He’s looking at eight to twelve years.”
The information settles oddly—I should feel satisfaction, maybe, or vindication that the man who saw me as a business acquisition is facing consequences. Instead, I feel nothing. Lorenzo is just another piece of wreckage from a life I’ve left behind.
“Good,” I say finally. “He deserves it.”
“He does.” Giordano studies me with the careful attention of someone who’s known me since childhood. “You’re really happy, aren’t you? With Mauricio?”
“I am.” The truth of it still surprises me sometimes. “He’s... everything I didn’t know I needed. Dangerous and loyal and so arrogant that I want to throw things at his head half the time. But he’s mine. He chose me, and I chose him, and we’re building something real.”
“Then I’m happy for you.” His expression softens into something almost paternal. “You deserve this, Regina. After everything Sabino put you through, you deserve a man who loves you.”
“He really does.” I smile.
He glances toward the terrace where voices drift. “I should let you finish getting ready. But Regina? Thank you. For including me in this, for fighting for my future, for... everything.”
“Thank you for keeping me alive long enough to escape.” I squeeze his hand once more. “Now go. Find a seat. Watch me marry a man I so completely and utterly love.”
Giordano’s laugh is soft, and then he disappears down the hall with his marshal shadow, and I return to the mirror for final adjustments. The woman looking back is ready—no more delays, no more doubts. Just forward momentum toward a future that’s chosen rather than forced.
The ceremony is simple, intimate. Father Benedetto speaks in Italian-accented English about love, commitment, and the grace of second chances.
Mauricio’s hand is steady in mine. His vows are delivered with his quiet but unwavering confidence.
When he slides the ring onto my finger, his smile is purely victorious.
My vows come easier than expected—promises about building empires and choosing futures and loving him even when he’s insufferably arrogant. His laugh rumbles through the small gathering, warm and genuine.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Father Benedetto’s blessing carries approval. “You may kiss your bride.”
Mauricio doesn’t need the invitation twice. His kiss is thorough, claiming, loaded with promise that makes heat bloom despite our audience. When we finally break apart, Simeone’s applause leads the others.
The reception flows naturally with wine, food, and toasts that range from heartfelt to inappropriate. David regales everyone with their prison stories. Tiziano actually smiles. Even Giordano relaxes slightly, his marshal maintaining a discreet distance.
As sunset paints everything gold, I find myself on the terrace with Loriana while the men talk business inside.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, bouncing Alessandro gently. “Emotionally, I mean. This is a big step.”
“Good. Really good.” I watch through the window as Mauricio laughs at something David said. “Which is strange. I thought I’d be more nervous.”
“Why would you be nervous? You already lived together, built a business, and survived multiple attempts on your lives. Marriage is just making it official.”
“I suppose.” But there’s something else, a secret I’ve been carrying for six days now. “Loriana... can I tell you something? I haven’t told Mauricio yet.”
Her attention sharpens. “Of course.”
“I’m pregnant.” The words feel surreal even as I say them aloud. “I’ve been trying to figure out the right time to tell him, and then the wedding got closer, and I didn’t want to overshadow—”
“Regina.” Loriana’s interruption is gentle but firm. “That’s wonderful. And you need to tell him. Today. Now.”
“On our wedding day?”
“Especially on your wedding day.” She shifts Alessandro to her other hip. “Trust me. This is the kind of news that makes the day even more meaningful.”
My hand drifts to my still-flat stomach, feeling the weight of new life growing there. A child. Mauricio’s child. Our child, created from choice instead of obligation.
“I’m terrified,” I admit quietly. “What if I’m like Sabino? What if I don’t know how to be a good parent because I never had one?”
“Then you’ll figure it out together.” Loriana’s smile is knowing. “Just like you’ve figured out everything else. Besides, you already know exactly what kind of parent not to be. That’s half the battle.”
Mauricio appears in the doorway, concern flickering across his features. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” I cross to him, taking his hand. “Actually, can we talk? Privately?”
His expression shifts to something more serious as he follows me to our bedroom, away from guests and celebration. When the door closes behind us, he turns to me with storm-gray eyes that see too much.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I take a breath, steadying myself. “I have news. Good news, I think. At least I hope you’ll think it’s good news.”
“Regina.” His hands find my shoulders. “You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m pregnant.” The confession tumbles out unfiltered. “About eight weeks. I found out earlier this week but didn’t know how to tell you with the wedding and everything happening and—”
He kisses me, cutting off my nervous rambling with lips that taste like promise and wine and future. When he pulls back, his smile is incandescent.
“We’re having a baby?”
“We’re having a baby.” Confirmation makes it real, terrifying, and wonderful in equal measure. “Are you okay with this? I know we never discussed—”
“I’m more than okay.” His hands slide to my waist, reverent. “I’m... Regina, this is perfect. Unexpected but perfect.”
“Even knowing what we come from? And the things that we’ve done?”
“Especially knowing that.” His correction is firm. “We know exactly what kind of parents not to be. What kind of life not to create. Our child gets to grow up free, loved, chosen. That’s everything we never had.”
Relief floods through me, sharp and overwhelming. “I was so worried you’d think it was too soon, or too complicated, or—”
“It’s all of those things.” But he’s smiling, that dangerous expression that’s become synonymous with home. “And it’s also perfect. We’ll figure it out together. Just like everything else.”
I lean into him, feeling the future shift and expand to accommodate new possibilities. A child. Our child. Built from love instead of obligation, from choice instead of force.
“Mrs. Barone.” He tests my new name against my temple. “Mother of my child. Builder of empires. How does it feel?”
“Terrifying.” Honest. “And perfect. Just like you said.”
“Then let’s go tell our guests.” He takes my hand, leading me toward the door. “They’re probably wondering if we’ve escaped to consummate the marriage early.”
“Mauricio!”
“What? It’s what I’d be wondering.” But his grin is unrepentant. “Come on. Let’s celebrate everything we’ve survived to reach this moment. And everything that comes next.”