3. CHAPTER TWO #3
It was simple—white silk that flowed from modest straps to just below her knees, with a slight flare at the hips.
No beads, no lace, nothing elaborate. But on her, it was transformative.
The color made her blonde hair seem to glow, and for the first time since I'd met her, she stood straight, shoulders back, no longer trying to make herself invisible.
"Oh, Mommy," Dante breathed. "You look like an angel."
Ophelia's eyes met mine in the mirror, questioning. I wasn't prepared for the tightness that gripped my chest, or the words that came out of my mouth.
"He's right," I said simply. "You look beautiful."
A flush spread across her cheeks, and pleasure, surprise, and a vulnerability flickered in her eyes. It hit me harder than any punch I'd taken in the ring.
"This one," she said softly to Margaret. "This is the one."
While Margaret boxed the dress, I paid at the register, waving away Ophelia's protests. "Consider it a wedding gift," I told her, ignoring the warmth that spread through me when she smiled in response.
Next stop was the men's store, where I steered us toward the ready-to-wear suits. Dante's excitement peaked when he realized he'd be matching me.
"We're going to look the same?" he asked, bouncing on his toes as the tailor measured him.
"Exactly the same," I confirmed, watching as another salesman pulled a child-sized version of the charcoal suit I'd selected.
"Like real superheroes," Dante declared. "Secret identities!"
The tailor chuckled. "Hold still, young man. Secret identities need proper fitting suits."
"Superheroes, huh?" I asked, catching Ophelia's eye over Dante's head. She was watching us with that same wondering expression I'd caught on the plane.
"Yeah! Like you showed me with the comics. Some superheroes look normal but they're really heroes underneath." Dante held his arms out obediently while the tailor checked the sleeve length.
"That's right," I agreed, strangely moved by his interpretation. The kid saw me—a tattooed biker with a reputation that would terrify most adults—as some kind of hero. It hit deeper than I expected.
When we emerged from the changing rooms in our matching suits, Dante strutted like he owned the place. "Look, Mommy! We look like superheroes, just like you showed me!"
Ophelia's expression softened. "You both look very handsome."
Our next stop was the department store for essentials—toiletries, underwear, socks, casual clothes.
I filled the cart efficiently, thinking practically about what we'd need for the next few days.
Ophelia added a few items for herself and Dante, her choices modest despite my insistence that she get whatever she wanted.
In the toy section, Dante's eyes locked onto a small stuffed dinosaur—a blue triceratops with ridiculously large eyes.
"Can I have him?" he asked quietly, not whining or demanding, but with the careful hesitation of a child used to being told no.
I picked up the dinosaur before Ophelia could answer. "Every ring bearer needs a good luck charm," I said, adding it to our cart without discussion.
Dante's face lit up. He reached for the dinosaur, clutching it tightly once I handed it to him. "I'm going to name him Razor-saurus," he announced.
My chest tightened in a way I didn't recognize and sure as hell didn't know how to handle. Beside me, Ophelia's hand brushed mine, a silent thank you carrying more weight than words ever could.
Our final stop before the chapel was the jewelry store. I'd considered using one of the club's connections—we had people who could get high-quality merchandise without questions—but this needed to be legitimate. Legal. Real. For her protection as much as anything else.
"Simple gold bands," I told the jeweler. "Nothing flashy."
While he pulled out a selection, I noticed Ophelia's fingers trembling slightly as she looked at the rings. Reality setting in, probably. I moved closer, keeping my voice low.
"You okay?"
She nodded, not quite meeting my eyes. "It's just... I never thought I'd be doing this. Getting married in Vegas to someone I barely know."
"Better or worse than what you imagined?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Her eyes finally met mine. "Better," she said softly. "Definitely better."
The rings we chose were plain gold—traditional, sturdy, nothing that would draw attention. When the jeweler asked about engraving, we both hesitated.
"Maybe later," I finally said. "We're on a schedule today."
The Eternal Love Wedding Chapel looked exactly like I'd expected—neon cupids, white columns that were definitely plastic, and an aging Elvis impersonator waiting to perform the ceremony.
It should have been tacky. Hell, it was tacky.
But when we arrived, Ophelia with her simple white dress and Dante proudly carrying his dinosaur and the small pillow with our rings, it felt strangely right.
"You ready for this?" I asked her as we waited in the small anteroom.
She nodded, more confident than I'd seen her yet. "Yes. Are you?"
"Born ready," I replied automatically, though the strange fluttering in my gut suggested otherwise. This was supposed to be a business arrangement, a practical solution. So why did my heart rate pick up when the wedding march began to play?
Dante took his ring bearer duties with solemn importance, walking carefully down the short aisle ahead of Ophelia, the pillow held steady in his small hands. His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, his new dinosaur friend tucked under one arm.
Then Ophelia appeared, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
She'd swept her hair up off her neck, soft strands curling loose around her face, and the simple dress glowed beneath the chapel lights.
She wasn't made-up like the women I usually saw in Vegas—no fake tan, no dramatic makeup.
Just her, natural and somehow more beautiful for it.
Elvis guided us through the standard vows and then asked if we wanted to add personal ones. I hadn't planned for this, but words came anyway.
"Your fight is my fight now," I said, holding her hands in mine, feeling the slight tremble in her fingers. "You and Dante are my family, and I protect what's mine. No one will hurt either of you again. That's my promise."
I meant every word, surprising myself with the depth of my commitment.
Ophelia's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I promise to trust you," she said softly. "To build something real with you, even though this started... differently than most. To make a home with you, for Dante and for us."
Elvis beamed, completely misreading our situation as some great romance, which was probably for the best. "By the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, thank you very much."
I hesitated, unsure how Ophelia would feel about this part. But she leaned forward slightly, giving permission. I kept the kiss light, respectful—just a brief press of lips. But even that simple contact sent an unexpected current through me, a connection I hadn't anticipated.
When we separated, Dante was clapping excitedly, his dinosaur clutched to his chest. "Are we a family now?" he asked, looking between us with hopeful eyes.
"Yeah, little man," I answered, surprising myself again with how right it felt to say it. "We're a family now."
As we signed the marriage certificate, making official what had started as a practical arrangement, I caught Ophelia watching me with a warmth in her eyes I hadn't seen before. Not only gratitude or relief, but cautious affection tangled beneath it.
This wasn't the life I'd planned. Not even close. But standing there with my new wife and the boy who now legally called me stepdad, I realized it might be exactly the life I needed.