Chapter 39 Gianna
Gianna
The apartment is quiet, too quiet for what today is supposed to be.
Sunlight streams through the window beside me, casting long golden lines across the wooden floors.
I sit facing the mirror, the soft brush of foundation smoothing over my cheekbones as the makeup artist murmurs something about shimmer and undertones.
I nod, barely hearing her. My heart is pounding.
Outside the window, I can see the greenhouse in the distance, a touch of greenery glass surrounded by carefully trimmed hedges, woven arches, and tall guards.
Not just your typical wedding security. This is a different guest list. The Irish.
The Italians. Peace treaty as it is, they're still families that don't usually sit in the same room without drawing blood.
This isn't just Finn and my wedding. This is a diplomatic arrangement to create peace between our families.
Every corner of the ceremony site is locked down. Guards on roofs, earpieces in tuxedos, sharp eyes disguised behind smiles. Everything has to go according to plan. And it hasn't helped that since Finn returned from Costello Motors, he's been on edge regarding security.
I take a slow, deep breath and look back at my reflection. The makeup is perfect, subtle but radiant. A soft glow on my cheeks, a smoky shimmer on my lids. My hair is pinned halfway up, the rest falling in curls over my shoulder. I look beautiful. Everyone has said so, but inside I'm trembling.
The makeup artist adjusts the tilt of my chin, and I force myself to hold still.
I have no reason to be afraid. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
I love Finn, and he loves me. This day is ours.
But somewhere beneath the excitement and sparkle, something else coils, a tightness in my chest, the buzzing of nerves in my spine.
Is it fear? Anticipation? Or maybe just the weight of everything this day means. The door creaks softly.
"Gianna?" Rina's voice calls gently as she steps inside. I turn my head and she stands there, elegant as ever in her emerald green dress, dark curls pinned high, age only gracing the softness around her eyes. Her gaze lands on me, and for a moment, she doesn't say a word.
Then she smiles. Her eyes shimmer, glassy with tears she hasn't yet shed. "You look... beautiful."
I blink, and just like that, the tightness in my chest cracks open. "Rina..."
She crosses the room quickly, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She cups my face, careful not to smudge the makeup, and kisses my forehead. "I can't believe it," she whispers. "Look at you."
I laugh, a small, shaky sound. "Don't. I'm already trying not to cry."
She sits beside me for a moment, her finger resting lightly over mine.
"I want you to know," she says, her voice soft but firm, "I'm proud of you.
You've become a woman who knows what she wants.
You've been through a lot, and yet here you are, stronger than ever.
I'm proud of your heart, your courage, and everything you've become.
" She squeezes my hand. "Your mother would be too. I hope you know that."
Tears burn in my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep them back.
"Thank you." She smiles and kisses my cheek. "Now don't go ruining your makeup. Save the tears for the vows."
We both laugh, and the tension in my chest loosens just a little. The makeup artist gives a small nod, satisfied with her work, and steps away. The room is full with gentle rustles of fabrics, the low hum of voices from outside, and I can hear a violin warming up. My heart skips a beat.
I slip into my wedding dress, the white lace fabric clinging to my body perfectly as I stare at the mirror. It's an off-shoulder dress with crystals hanging from it along a long train.
I take a deep breath, looking at myself before walking to the window, watching the subtle movement of guards. People are starting to arrive. Expensive cars line the gravel path, polished shoes step onto the cobblestones, and suits in shades of gray and navy move like shadows.
Everything looks perfect, until he arrives.
A black car pulls up just outside the gate. The moment the door opens and James steps out, my heart drops. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. "Are you okay, sweetie?" Rina asks, but I barely register her question.
What the hell is he doing here?
He's dressed to blend in, but James never really can. The weight of his presence, his red hair and audacity, it all strikes me at once. I can see guards stiffen, stepping in front of him. Heads turn. People are already watching, curious, whispering.
My palms turn clammy. This isn't part of the plan. The wedding is supposed to be a new chapter, not a battlefield. For a moment, I consider running out there, intervening before things escalate.
But then, I see him.
Finn steps out of the greenhouse, shoulders square, sharp suit, eyes locked on James. I wish I could see Finn's face from here, but his back is turned to me.
"What is going on?" Rina asks, joining me at the window. I don't answer her, because I don't know. From where I stand, I can't hear the words, but I feel the tension, the clenched jaw, the sudden shift in his stance, the way he's holding back the storm I know is brewing in him.
They stand face to face. And then Finn stretches out his hand. James looks at it. Then slowly, cautiously, he takes it. The breath I've been holding rushes out of me.
Behind me, the door creaks open again. I don't have to turn. I know the weight of that presence anywhere.
"Gianna."
I turn slowly. Vito stands in the doorway in a dark, sharply tailored suit.
His hair is slicked back, his expression is unreadable at first, calm, composed, but something flickers in his eyes.
Pride, maybe. A touch of emotion he is too stubborn to show.
I look back at the window, and both Finn and James are gone. Everyone has dispersed.
"You're ready?" he asks, his voice low.
I hesitate, glancing back once in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me is no longer the scared girl. She is a woman.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I say, meeting his eyes. I won't let anything or anyone ruin this day for me.
"I'll meet you both in there," Rina says, looking at us both with so much pride and joy. The look only the woman who'd fought for me through all of this could give.
I smile at her and nod.
Vito steps forward, offering his arm. "The Irish boy is waiting." I smile, slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow. His body is warm. "I bet you never saw this day coming?" I tease him, leaning closer to him.
"The Irish boy isn't that bad," Vito says with a grunt, and I chuckle. That's the closest to a compliment Finn will ever get.
"He has a name, you know," I say, as we walk, trying to take the edge off me.
"I prefer the term Irish boy," he answers.
We stop at the entrance of the greenhouse, the massive glass doors pulled open before us.
For a moment, everything goes quiet. The hum of the music, the soft shuffle of guests adjusting in their seats, and the clicking of champagne glasses — it all blurs into the background.
I can see the inside from here, bright with natural light, the scent of blossoms floating towards me like soft whispers of summer.
"You look beautiful, Gianna," Vito says beside me. I turn to him, and for the first time in a long while, he isn't wearing the hardened mask he's always hidden behind. His eyes are softer and warm.
"I'm proud of you too," he adds, his voice thick despite how hard he tries to swallow it down. I give his arm a little squeeze.
"Thank you, Vito," I whisper.
Then the music shifts, slow and graceful, with soft piano notes twined with distant violin.
We step inside. The trail beneath me is soft, a white floral runner laid along the stone path.
My dress sweeps over it with each step, delicate lace trailing behind like water.
Vito moves in sync with me. Behind us, I can hear the faint rustle of movement, my train being gently adjusted by the coordinator who follows a few steps back.
But it is the greenhouse that truly takes my breath away.
It is transformed into a dream, looking better than the last time I saw it.
Sunlight pours through the towering glass walls.
Every corner blooms with arrangements of peonies, roses, and many other flowers.
The air is thick with the scent of sweet freesia.
And the people...
It is a strange sight. Italians on one side, Irish on the other.
The men are in crisp suits, women in fine dresses, some visibly nervous, others watching with silent interest. Dark eyes.
Pale hands gripping glasses of expensive whiskey.
The atmosphere is tense. As I walk in, I catch familiar faces that have watched me grow, that had once doubted me, protected me, betrayed me, and stood by me.
Halfway down the aisle, my eyes find Sofia.
She sits near the end of the Italian side, her hair pinned in soft waves, a shiny dress wrapped around her like it's been stitched to her frame.
Dante is beside her, his hand resting over hers on her knee, steady and quiet the way he always is with her.
She meets my eyes and gives a single, slow nod.
A rush of comfort floods through my chest.
A few steps more, and I see Rina, sitting beside Elena.
Rina's grin is wide, her eyes shimmering with love.
Elena, on the other hand, looks like she's trying very hard not to shout anything inappropriate.
Marco sits at her side, his head tilted toward hers as he murmurs something, and whatever he says makes her press her lips together like she's suppressing a laugh.
Both of them beam when they see me, and I give them a soft, grateful smile.
Elena has been on a trip for a long time and only returned a day before my wedding. It means the world to me to have her here, beside Rina, who has been here through everything. Their presence steadies me.
But as we reach the final stretch, everyone else — the crowd, the music, the guards, the tension — all fades away, because I see him. Finn.
Standing under the arch, hands folded calmly in front of him, dressed in a black tux that fits like skin, his hair is brushed back, and those green eyes lock onto me with unflinching focus.
He smiles. And in that smile is every piece of the world I would fight for. His eyes don't leave me, not even for a second. It's like he is memorizing this moment. Like he wants to burn this image of me walking towards him into his soul. I can't help but smile back.
The distance between us shortens, each step pulling us closer to the only person who has ever truly seen me. We reach the front. Vito slows, then stops. He turns to me, eyes firm and leans in. "You will always be a Rosso. Even if someone else takes the lead for now. You are always welcome home."
I nod, unable to say anything. Words would have cracked me. Vito steps back and I take the final step towards Finn, slipping my hand into his. His fingers curl around mine like they were made for it. Finn exchanges a respectful nod with Vito before he walks away.
"You look gorgeous," he whispers so only I can hear.
The officiant's voice is steady, layered with importance and tradition, but I barely hear him.
He stands just a few steps away, speaking words that should hold weight: unity, commitment, love, and forever. Yet all of it blurs into background noise because all I can see is Finn. His eyes never leave mine. And in them, I see it all.
College. The way our history started and since then how he has protected me, fought for me, and loved me even when I didn't deserve it. I blink back tears just as the officiant's words come back to focus.
"... and now, it's time to say your vows."
Finn takes my hand in his. His voice is low, but sure.
"Gianna... I have loved you before I even knew I was allowed to.
I've loved you in silence, in chaos, and in war.
I've seen the worst of the world with you, and still believe you're the best part of it.
I promise to protect you, even when you don't need it.
To fight for you, not against you. And to choose you, over and over, every day, for the rest of my life. "
Tears roll down my face as I speak.
"Finn... you've been my shield, my peace, my greatest surprise.
When everything felt like it was falling apart, you were my reason to keep standing.
You saw me when no one else did. I promise to never stop seeing you, too.
To trust you. To fight for you. And to love you, not just in the good, but in every messy, broken, beautiful moment we'll ever have. "
His thumb wipes away my tears, and in his eyes, I see forever.