5. Enzo
5
ENZO
W hen Antonio was married, the family spent thousands of dollars on his extravagant wedding. This lavish expenditure was not only a reflection of his status as the next head of the family but also a testament to the vibrant and grand traditions surrounding Italian weddings. We revel in the joy of our own tying the knot; it's a time for celebration, a festival of love and unity.
Tonight, however, is an entirely different affair.
Autumn wears a borrowed veil from the chapel, the delicate lace draping over her face, though it doesn't quite match her striking red slip. Still, she radiates beauty and grace, a vision of love in the dim candlelight. Earlier, she had called Isabella to share her concerns, and despite her friend's initial upset at being ditched, Isabella arrives at the chapel, determined to fulfill her role as a witness with a fierce loyalty that only true friendship can forge.
"You think you're ready to marry my best friend?" Isabella fires at me, her eyes glinting with mischief before the ceremony begins. "You’re going to have a pack of rabid dogs on your hands, my friend. Irish rabid dogs," she insists, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Ginger Irish rabid dogs, no less."
I glance past her, my gaze settling on Autumn, the only redhead who truly matters amidst the swirling emotions of the evening. She stands there, animatedly engaging with Costantino, one of my cousins and another Bianchi. He was the witness I called, the one person I could trust to stand by me today. Autumn laughs at something he says, her nervous jitters visibly easing under his warm presence. "I'll walk through fire for that girl, Isabella," I declare with earnest conviction, feeling the weight of my commitment settle in my chest.
At midnight, the neon-lit streets of Vegas come alive, with plenty of wedding chapels keeping their doors wide open. Getting married in Vegas has become something of a punchline among those who know better. The thought of getting an annulment from a Vegas wedding is almost a rite of passage, a quirky anecdote to share over cocktails. But tonight, none of that matters to me; I’m just getting married, period. No jokes, no frivolities.
"Her brother is going to kill you," Isabella reminds me, her tone half-serious and half-teasing. "And it will be a pleasure to watch him get mad at someone who isn't me for once." I can’t help but feel a chill run down my spine at the thought of Autumn's protective sibling, but I also find a strange comfort in Isabella's playful commentary.
I'm beginning to rethink this friendship with Isabella. "You're very reassuring, thank you," I say dryly, the sarcasm hanging in the air between us.
With a casual shrug and a playful pop of her blonde locks, she flashes me a bland smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "I'm always here to help. Anyway, did you get a ring?" Her question pierces through the nervous haze that surrounds me.
It is uniquely hard to find a jewelry store open this late at night in this city of excess, but I managed it. While Autumn was coaxing Isabella into leaving the club and heading to the chapel, I was busy convincing Costantino to unlock his dad's shop for me. One three-stone princess diamond engagement ring and a French pavé wedding band later—and after handing over $5,000—we were set. "Yes. It's a wedding, Isabella," I reply, trying to inject some seriousness into the moment.
She rolls her eyes at me, adjusting her bandage dress with a casual grace. The outfit clings to strategic parts of her body, making her the center of attention for the men milling about the chapel tonight. "I'm just making sure. Men aren't shit, Mattie," she quips, her tone both teasing and oddly protective.
"It's Enzo," I correct her, a hint of annoyance creeping into my voice.
"Whatever. They'll say anything to get a woman into bed. If all you want is to fuck Autumn and be done with it, I get it. She's a hot piece of ass, and I bet deflowering her is going to be super fun for you. But if I find out that you annul this marriage in a couple of weeks and never speak to her again, I will burn your house down." Isabella's voice is steady, but when she gives me a look that shakes me to the core, I know she means every word. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s dead serious. "Do I make myself clear, Mattie?"
I don’t bother to correct her this time; what’s the point? "Crystal."
Thank God the preacher is finally ready to start the ceremony. I run a hand along Autumn's waist as I pass by her, a small gesture meant to convey comfort amid the chaos. She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with a hint of nervous excitement, and flashes me a small smile before heading to the end of the small aisle to convene with Isabella.
As I make my way onto the altar, Costantino claps me on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "She's a nice girl," he says with a grin that lights up his face. "The family is gonna fuck you up though." His words hang in the air, a reminder of the weight of tradition and expectation pressing down on me as I take my place before the gathered guests.
Hers? Mine? Both of ours? The possibilities are endless, swirling in my mind like a whirlwind of dreams and hopes. But as I stand up there, beaming with a sense of joy and anticipation, I manage to push aside all thoughts of the politics entwined in our union. Autumn walks gracefully down the aisle, her borrowed veil cascading around her like a shimmering waterfall, framing her face and accentuating her beauty in a way that takes my breath away. In all the countless scenarios I envisioned for our union, this moment—this unexpected twist—was never one of them. Yet, paradoxically, it stirs the deepest emotions within me, more than I could have ever anticipated.
I can barely hear the preacher’s words above the thunderous sound of my own heart pounding in my chest. Her hands in mine feel like the softest touch in the world, a warmth that grounds me amidst the whirlwind of the occasion. Somewhere in a dimly lit hallway just off the room, I can sense another couple preparing to step into their own moment of forever. This is, without a doubt, the least romantic way we could have chosen to solidify our vows, yet it feels so undeniably right to me. "I, Enzo Bianchi, take thee, Autumn Gallagher, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward," I declare, my voice steady, resonating with a sincerity that fills the space around us.
Come what may, hell or high water, I vow to keep her safe. I will love her endlessly, fiercely, without reservation. I will cherish her in every possible way. I may not have woken up this morning with the foresight of marrying Autumn, but by tonight, I will lay my head on the pillow with her by my side, a comforting presence in the chaos of the world. And tomorrow, when we face the formidable challenge of her family and mine, we will do it together, united in our love.
"You may now kiss the bride." The preacher’s voice lacks the enthusiasm I feel surging within me, but despite that, my heart swells with an overwhelming joy as I lean in, ready to seal our shared promise with a kiss that signifies our new beginning.
With my hands wrapped around her waist, I pull Autumn Bianchi closer, relishing the moment as I kiss my wife. The warmth of her body presses against me, her hips and breasts fitting snugly against my frame, igniting a fire within me. Her tongue boldly grazes my lips, and I can’t help but smile against her mouth, lost in the sweetness of this newfound intimacy.
Costantino erupts into cheers in Italian, his exuberance filling the air with a festive spirit, while Isabella, ever the resourceful friend, manages to locate a bottle of champagne. The bubbly liquid cascades down like joyful raindrops, interrupting our kiss as the preacher and staff begin to holler at her to stop. "It's fine," I try to reassure him, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll pay for damages."
As I glance back at Autumn, I’m captivated by the stars shimmering in her eyes, filled with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Droplets of champagne splatter against her slip, darkening its delicate fabric and causing it to cling to her tight little figure. "Iz, come on," she says, placing a gentle hand over her friend’s, her voice steady and soothing. "Let’s take this outside."
Her calm demeanor contrasts sharply with the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me. I’ve admired this woman from afar for so many years—her laughter, her kindness, her strength—and now, in this exhilarating moment, she is firmly mine. In just a matter of hours, I have claimed her heart and soul. Soon, all we need to do is sign our names on the dotted line, and it will be official. Nothing can come between us, not her pesky brother nor the weight of family expectations. In just a few hours, she will be wedded and bedded, and I can hardly fathom how all those hours I spent dreaming of bridging the gap between the Bianchi and Gallagher families are finally coming to fruition.
"C'mon, Sal," I say with a playful wink at my best man, my excitement bubbling over as I gesture toward the bar, "let's grab a glass of champagne."
He stands there for a moment, clearly starstruck by Isabella, his eyes wide with admiration, but then he shakes it off and follows me out. "I'm telling you, mate, I'm gonna hook up with that one tonight," he declares, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
I can’t help but think back to everything Autumn warned me about before I had a chance to caution Costantino. "She's a wild card," I remind him, echoing my wife's wise words with a serious tone. "Seriously, just be careful with her."
His gaze is fixated on Isabella, and he responds with an air of dreamy conviction. "I think I'm in love."
Somehow, I can't shake the doubt that creeps in. Costantino falls in love the way the rest of us change our underwear: daily, without a second thought. But I have a feeling that Isabella is a force to be reckoned with. If anything, she’ll be the one to break his heart, not the other way around. She has that captivating allure, the kind of girl who can ruin a man. What was it she said about good pussy? The memory makes me chuckle, knowing full well that Costantino is in way over his head this time.