Chapter two
The second I step into the house, I'm ambushed.
Mamma's arms wrap around me in a vice grip, her warmth pressing into me, the faint scent of vanilla and freshly brewed espresso clinging to her like a familiar lullaby.
She holds me so tightly that it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.
For a moment, I just let her, allowing myself to sink into her embrace, because I know what this is about.
She knows.
She must have found out that I knew about the wedding before she had told me.
Her fingers tighten slightly against my back, as if she can physically shield me from the reality looming over us.
When she finally pulls back, her sharp brown eyes, so much like my own, search my face for any sign of upset, any crack in the carefully constructed fa?ade I've been wearing since I left Jax standing alone in the café car park.
"You don't have to do this," she whispers, her voice laced with worry, her fingers still gripping my arms as if she's afraid I'll be taken away from her, "you know your papà and Nico would go to war for you.
You know they would tear this entire city apart if you asked them to.
This whole thing is so old-fashioned.
What happened to just signing a damn piece of paper?
I swear, these families get weirder every year. "
I let out a small, breathy laugh—one that barely reaches my eyes. "It's fine, Mamma. I don't want Babbo or Nico doing anything reckless. I'll do it, even if it is old-fashioned."
I try to smile, but she sees right through me. She always does.
She rolls her eyes, unimpressed, before shaking her head and murmuring, "Bugiarda."
I press my lips together, but before I can say anything, her expression softens. A new question lingers on the tip of her tongue, one she hesitates to ask before lowering her voice so only I can hear.
"What about you and Jaxon?"
I freeze.
Mamma knows about me and Jax. She walked in on us kissing after my graduation but swore to keep it a secret. She knew that if Nico ever found out, there wouldn't be enough body bags in New York to contain his rage.
I swallow hard before answering, "I already told him. He understands."
She studies me for a moment before nodding. Then, without another word, she lifts one of my hands and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles, as if sealing a silent promise between us.
She doesn't say it, but I know what she's thinking.
If you ever change your mind, I'll be the first to help you run.
But we both know I won't.
Before I can linger too long in that thought, she tugs me toward the kitchen. The moment we step inside, the energy in the room shifts.
Nico, Gio, and Babbo sit at the kitchen island, their presence heavy with expectation. Ameena—Gio's wife and a force of nature in her own right—moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, the rich aroma of simmering sauces and roasted garlic filling the air.
The second Nico sees me, he moves towards me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and protective gesture.
"Alexa." His voice is low, desperate, "tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it. You don't have to marry that jackass."
I sigh, pushing away from him as if this is completely normal behaviour because, honestly, it is. Nico has always been the dramatic one.
"Nothing," I reply smoothly, "I'll marry him if that's what will keep the peace."
Nico growls under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Bambina, are you sure?" Babbo's deep voice rumbles across the room, laced with a confusion he rarely allows himself to show.
I nod once. Just once. Because if I let myself hesitate, if I allow even a second of doubt to slip through the cracks, I'll fall apart.
Gio exhales sharply, but I ignore it. Instead, I step beside Ameena and grab a wooden spoon, stirring the cheese sauce she'd already prepared.
"I'll make the call," Nico mutters after a long moment of pointed silence. His voice is tight, controlled, but I don't miss the underlying fury in it, "he and some of his people will be here in a few days."
"I assume the wedding will follow soon after?" I ask, not looking up from the sauce.
Nico's jaw tenses, "The sooner, the better. apparently"
I hum in agreement, "That makes sense."
---
Two Days Later
I run my hands down the smooth fabric of the white spaghetti-strap bodycon dress, feeling the subtle stretch of the material as it hugs my frame. It's tighter than anything I had originally planned to wear.
I already know Nico and my cousins are going to hate it.
This is what happens when you let Ameena help you get ready.
"It's a barbecue," she had said, her dark eyes flashing with mischief, "If this man is demanding a marriage for business, then we might as well make him choke on his own arrogance."
I wasn't sure if I agreed with her logic, but I was too nervous to argue with her stubborn ass.
She had straightened my hair to perfection before pinning it into a loose bun, leaving two strands to frame my face. My makeup was subtle—soft brown eyeshadow and a nude gloss that made my lips look just kissable enough to be dangerous.
Paired with nude wedges, the dress transformed me into something unexpected.
Something seductive...
"You look amazing!" Ameena beams, practically bouncing in her heels.
I force a soft smile to hide the anxiety rushing through me, but can't stop the question from rising, "are you sure?"
She just rolls her eyes and yanks open the bedroom door before I can protest.
When I don't immediately move, she impatiently starts gesturing for me to step out. I sigh, smoothing my hands over the dress one last time before following her downstairs.
At the bottom of the staircase, Nico, Gio, Marcel, and Alonso are waiting.
The second I spot Alonso, I rush forwards andthrow myself into his open arms, relishing the familiar strength of my cousin.
After my Uncle Elijah's death, Uncle Alexei and Auntie Ava had moved to Italy to help Alessia run the mafia, leaving us with fewer chances to see each other but our bond remained unshaken.
"When did you get back? Are the others here?" I bombard him with questions as soon as he sets me down.
He chuckles, "Give me a chance to speak then. I came back the second I heard my baby cousin was getting married. The others had to stay- Elisa's...busy. and the others have work and school commitments"
"Well, I'm glad that one of you could come"I smile, squeezing his arm gently.
"They all said congratulations though, and Elisa made some... colourful promises" He laughs fondly at his sister's antics before finally really looking at me. His brows furrow as his lips twist down, "now, what the fuck are you wearing?"
"That's what I want to know."
Nico's voice is low and dangerous, as his sharp gaze flicks over the dress.
Gio groans, "Ameena, baby, I told you to help her pick somethingnice, not...that."
Ameena just smirks. "It's a fucking barbecue. She dressed accordingly. And honestly? I think she looks hot. If I wasn't married to you, I'd totally fuck her."
Gio groans louder.
Marcel sighs, "Alexa, please go change before someone sees you in that. You will give your father a heart attack"
Nervously, I glance around, chewing my bottom lip before shrugging, " I don't have time."
Ameena's eyebrows draw together and her lips twist as she snaps, "leave her alone! She looks gorgeous!"
Before they can argue, Ameena snatches the beige cardigan Nico had grabbed from somewhere and flings it out of the open window before capturing my hand and pulling me onto the patio.
The last thing I hear before Mamma calls us over?
Nico cursing under his breath.
And honestly? It's beautiful.