Chapter 32 Santino #2
"That I'll wake up and discover this is all a dream," she explains, her voice carrying a vulnerability I don't hear from her often.
"That you'll change your mind once the excitement wears off and realize you made a mistake marrying someone as difficult as me.
That the reality of being married to me won't live up to whatever fantasy you built in your head during our courtship. "
I stop dancing, right there in the middle of the floor with everyone watching, because this is too important to address while we're moving.
I frame her face with both hands, making sure she's looking directly at me and can see the absolute truth in my eyes.
"Not a dream," I say firmly, leaving no room for doubt.
"This is real—you're real, we're real, everything we feel is real.
And I'm never changing my mind about you, not when things get hard or complicated or difficult.
I didn't marry you because I thought you were easy.
You're stuck with me now, Mrs. Marcello, through all the good and bad and complicated and messy that comes with building a life together. "
She studies my face like she's looking for cracks in my certainty, but I know she won't find any because I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life.
"I’m glad," she finally says, that beautiful smile breaking across her face like sunrise. "Because I plan to be absolutely impossible to deal with at least half the time."
"I'm counting on it," I assure her, pulling her back into my arms and resuming our dance. "Wouldn't want it any other way. Easy is boring. And you, Liana Marcello, are the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me."
We keep dancing as the song continues, swaying together while around us the room fills with other people—our families watching with pride and happiness, friends finding their seats and raising glasses in impromptu toasts, the photographer circling like a shark looking for perfect candid moments to capture.
I catch glimpses of my father talking with Dominic in what looks like a genuine conversation rather than the tense negotiation that colored every interaction during the alliance marriage discussions.
The two Dons are standing together like colleagues who've found unexpected common ground, no longer negotiating a business deal but simply two fathers watching their children find happiness.
Mama and Elena have their heads together, undoubtedly crying again about how beautiful everything is and how perfect we are together and probably already planning hypothetical grandchildren that neither Liana nor I are ready to think about yet.
Gia is dancing with one of my cousins. From the way they're laughing together and the way Gia keeps touching his arm, maybe this wedding will result in more than one happy couple by the end of the night.
And Nonna watches it all from her seat of honor, that small knowing smile on her face that says she's satisfied with how this turned out, pleased that her grandson has found the kind of partnership she had with my grandfather.
The song ends, and the band transitions smoothly into the traditional father-daughter dance. I step back as Dominic approaches, offering his hand to Liana with visible emotion.
I watch them dance, Dominic holding his daughter carefully, speaking quietly to her while she rests her head on his shoulder. Whatever he's saying makes her cry happy tears.
When their dance ends, it's my turn with Mama, who cries through every second while telling me how happy she is and how perfect Liana is for me.
After the traditional dances conclude, the floor opens to everyone, and the real celebration begins. I make my way back to Liana, who's been swept into conversation with some of her mother's friends, all of them gushing about the ceremony and the dress and how beautiful everything is.
Bruno appears at my elbow with two glasses of champagne, handing me one with a knowing smile. "You keep staring at her like you still can't believe she's real."
"I can't," I admit, taking the champagne but not drinking it, too focused on watching my wife laugh at something one of the older women is saying.
"How does it feel?" Bruno asks. "Being married? Being someone's husband? Having a wife who's your actual equal instead of just someone who plays the part?"
"Great," I say, finally looking at my oldest friend. "Perfect in ways I didn't know how to want until I had it. It feels like I've been playing at being alive all these years and I'm only just now actually living."
"You did it, Boss," Bruno says with obvious pride and affection. "You actually did it. You figured out how to court a woman instead of negotiating for one. I'm proud of you, you know. Genuinely proud."
"Thanks, Bruno," I manage. "That means a lot coming from you. You've been telling me to pull my head out of my ass for years, so I guess I finally listened."
"Don't screw it up now," he warns, but there's warmth in his voice. "You've got something special here. Something rare. Hold onto it."
"I will," I promise. "I'm never letting her go."
Bruno claps me on the shoulder once more before melting back into the crowd.
I find Liana almost immediately—she's finished with her mother's friends and is now talking with Gia near the edge of the dance floor.
When she sees me approaching, her whole face lights up, and she excuses herself to meet me halfway.
"Dance with me again?" I ask, even though I don't need to.
"Always," she says, taking my hand.
We dance for hours after that, through dinner service and multiple toasts, moving together to slow songs and fast songs and everything in between, taking breaks only when protocol demands we dance with other family members or thank important guests for attending.
I dance with Mama again while she cries through every second of our song, telling me over and over that she's so happy and she can't wait to have grandchildren even though that's probably several years away if I have any say in the timing.
I dance with Gia, who warns me that if I ever hurt Liana the way I did during the kidnapping incident, she will personally make my life a living hell in ways I cannot even imagine.
I believe her completely and promise to never give her reason to make good on that threat.
Then she smiles and welcomes me to the family.
Between dances and conversations and social obligations, I keep finding my way back to Liana, pulled to her like gravity, unable to stay away for more than a few minutes before I need to touch her or see her smile or just exist in her space.
The toasts begin after dinner, a tradition I've been both anticipating and dreading because I know my friends are going to use this opportunity to simultaneously celebrate and humiliate me.
Bruno goes first, standing with his glass raised and that mischievous glint in his eye that means he's about to say something both touching and embarrassing.
"I've known Santino since we were kids running around the neighborhood getting into trouble our parents didn't want to know about," he begins.
"And I've never seen him like this. Happy.
Genuinely happy in a way that doesn't come from achieving a goal or closing a deal or winning some kind of strategic victory.
This is different." He looks at Liana with genuine fondness.
"You did that. You shook him up and made him question everything and forced him to actually become a real person instead of just a walking contract negotiation.
Thank you for that, and congratulations to both of you. "
Dominic stands next, commanding attention just by virtue of being who he is—one of the most powerful Dons in the city, a man whose opinion carries weight and whose blessing means everything.
"When I first arranged this marriage between my daughter and Santino," he says, his voice carrying clearly through the ballroom, "I thought I was doing what was best for Liana.
I thought I was protecting her and securing her future in the only way I knew how.
I was wrong about that. What was best for my daughter was letting her choose for herself, letting her find her own path and her own partner.
" He looks directly at me with an intensity that makes me stand straighter.
"Take care of her, Santino. Not because I'm ordering you to or because tradition demands it or because contracts require it. But because you love her."
"I will," I promise, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "Every day for the rest of my life."
"I know you will," Dominic says with a small nod of approval.
"I see it in how you look at her. How you listen when she talks.
That's all a father can hope for—that his daughter finds someone who sees her value and honors it.
" He raises his glass higher. "To my daughter and her husband.
May you be as happy as you deserve to be, and may that happiness grow with every year you spend together. "
The cheering response thunders through the ballroom.
More toasts follow—from my father Vincent, speaking about legacy; from Liana's mother, crying through beautiful words about watching her daughter grow from a determined child into an even more determined woman; from Gia, keeping her remarks short but meaningful about sibling bonds and finding love where you least expect it.
Then comes the cake cutting ceremony, a massive five-tiered creation covered in delicate sugar flowers. Liana and I stand together before it, hands joined on the knife as the photographer captures every angle of this traditional moment.
"Don't you dare smash cake in my face," Liana warns me in an undertone that only I can hear, her grip on my hand tightening threateningly. "I mean it, Santino. I will absolutely kill you in front of all these witnesses if you do."
"I wouldn't dream of it," I assure her with complete sincerity, because I genuinely have no interest in starting our marriage by disrespecting her in front of everyone we know. "I like my face exactly as it is, not covered in frosting because my wife murdered me for ruining her makeup."
We cut the first slice together with careful coordination, then feed each other small bites of cake with tenderness. The cake is delicious—layers of vanilla and raspberry with cream filling that melts on the tongue.
More dancing follows, the celebration showing no signs of slowing down even as the evening wears into night.
The band transitions from romantic ballads to upbeat songs that get everyone on the dance floor, young and old mixing together in the kind of multi-generational celebration that only happens at weddings.
I lose track of time somewhere between the third and fourth hour of the reception, caught up in the joy and music and constant stream of people wanting to congratulate us or share stories or take photos.
But through it all, I keep finding my way back to Liana, dancing with her or standing beside her or simply holding her hand while we talk to guests.
Eventually, as the night begins to wind down and some of the older guests start making their exits, Liana tugs on my hand and tilts her head toward the French doors that lead to the terrace, her expression asking a question without words.
We slip away from the celebration, escaping into the relative quiet of the terrace with its view of the city spread out below us. The air is cooler out here, a refreshing change from the warm press of bodies and celebration inside.
"We did it," Liana says, leaning against the railing and looking out at the city with wonder in her voice.
"We did," I confirm, coming to stand beside her and wrapping my arms around her from behind, pulling her back against my chest.
"We're actually married," she says, like she's still testing the reality of it, making sure it's real and not some elaborate dream.
"Yes," I agree, resting my chin on top of her head. "Legally bound together for the rest of our lives. You're stuck with me now, Mrs. Marcello. No escape clause. No exit strategy. Just us, building a life together."
"How does it feel?" she asks, turning in my arms to face me properly.
"Perfect," I say honestly. "Like every choice I made before this was leading me to exactly this moment."
"What happens now?" she asks, her expression equal parts excited and nervous about the future we're stepping into together.
"Now?" I consider the question, thinking about all the challenges and joys and complications that come with being married to someone as brilliant and independent as Liana. "Now we figure out how to run two crime families without killing each other."
"Sounds fun," she says with that spark of mischief I love.
"It will be," I promise. "We'll fight and drive each other absolutely insane at times."
"I'm counting on it," she says, echoing my own words back to me.
We stand there together on the terrace, wrapped in each other and the peaceful quiet of the night, watching the city lights twinkle below us like promises of the future we're building together.
"Santino?" Liana says softly.
"Yes?"
"Thank you," she says, her voice carrying all the weight of everything we've been through to get to this moment. "For loving me even when I was doing everything I could to make you hate me."
"You're worth it," I tell her. "You're worth changing my entire life for. You're worth everything."
Inside the ballroom, the party continues without us—music and laughter and family celebrating the union of two families that started as a business arrangement and became something infinitely more valuable.
But out here on the terrace, it's just the two of us, Santino and Liana Marcello, beginning our life together in the quiet space between one chapter ending and another beginning.
"Ready to go back inside?" I ask eventually, knowing we should return to our guests even though I'd be content to stay here with her indefinitely.
"In a minute," she says, resting her head on my chest and listening to my heartbeat. "Let's stay here a little longer. Just the two of us, before we have to go back to being the happy couple everyone expects us to be."
"We are the happy couple," I point out. "That's not an act."
"I know," she says with a smile in her voice. "But out here, we're just Santino and Liana. Not the heirs to two powerful families. Just us. I like that feeling."
"I like it too," I admit, tightening my arms around her.
So, we stay there on the terrace, holding each other and watching the city and beginning our life together in the peaceful quiet that exists between one moment and the next.
Not because we have to, but because we choose to—every single day, for the rest of our lives.