Chapter 45 Rosalie
ROSALIE
The day before my wedding day could only be described as one thing: chaos.
Daisy directed everyone at the rehearsal dinner, with a clipboard in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.
The florists were her first stop. They were busy arranging the floral centerpieces, each bouquet different from the last. Daisy examined their work, adjusting a rose here, a lily there, until everything was to her satisfaction.
The musicians were next, tuning their instruments and rehearsing their pieces.
Daisy listened intently, her face serious, directing them with nods of approval.
As for me, my main concern was my wedding dress, which I wouldn’t be able to wear until tomorrow. The thought of slipping into that gown made my heart skip a beat.
“Tommy!” Daisy’s voice rang out, sharp and clear. “The tables need to be centered under the chandeliers, not to the side. We want symmetry, people!” Her demands, though aggressive, came from a good place in her heart.
Tommy, our cousin, shot me a glare with wide eyes. “Someone needs to tell her to tone it down a notch.”
“Good luck telling her that,” I said with a laugh, knowing full well Daisy’s determination was not easily swayed.
Eventually, Max arrived with a few others.
He stood by the grand oak doors, his posture relaxed and commanding at the same time.
Vincenzo stood by his side, fully engaged in their conversation.
I couldn’t say the same of Max. Instead he watched me with a dark gaze.
He had problems focusing when I was nearby, and all that did was make me smile.
Guests started to trickle in and find their seats with Daisy’s direction. The marina was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, which cast a golden hue over the white tables. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the dock flooded the room through the open patio doors.
After dinner, which consisted of salty shrimp and a martini, I found myself stuck in conversation with my momma and Margot.
I couldn’t forget Margot was the type of person who could talk endlessly about anything and everything, and tonight was no exception.
Her upcoming showing was the topic of the night, and she was explaining the theme of the year to everyone: pastels.
Damn it. No matter how much the woman talked, she always managed to draw me in. Despite my initial reluctance, I couldn’t help but get excited for the artwork she described, especially after she mentioned something about giving me a piece as a wedding present. I had to get married more often.
She continued to regale my mother with the latest gossip from the country club. Something about Mrs. Jenkins and her husband not being compatible.
Margot then turned to me and asked, “So, when are you and Daisy coming back to tennis at the club? We’ve all been missing your competitive matches!”
I laughed, thinking of our last match. I’d promised that would be my last considering she’d left me with bruises for weeks, but it was too fun to quit. “Soon, I hope. Things have just been so busy with wedding planning.”
“Well, once all this is over, you both need to come back.”
My momma chimed in. “You know, I’ve been telling them the same thing, Margot. You’d think they’d make time for some fun amid all this chaos.”
As I rolled my eyes, I saw Daisy making her way toward us with determination in her stride. She had a smile on her face—a bright one. She must’ve completed another task on her never-ending to-do list.
“There you are!” she said, slightly out of breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Everything is running smoothly, but we need to finalize a few details for tomorrow.”
I groaned. “Can’t I just have a few minutes?”
Daisy grinned, unfazed. “Sorry, but no rest for the weary. Come on—it’ll only take a minute.”
I followed her toward the patio doors, making my way through the crowd, both of us stopping occasionally to greet guests or answer a question. Finally, we made it down the hall and outside. Family was still scattered everywhere, but the music was less loud.
“The shrimp was too salty, the tables need adjusting . . .” she blabbed, staring at my face, “and your smile needs fixing. Why don’t you look happy?”
Her question caught me off-guard. I forced a smile, trying to hide my exhaustion and anxiety. I was nervous to marry Max, and time was ticking.
“I am happy, just a bit overwhelmed.”
Daisy’s expression softened, and she placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s a lot, but everything is going to go smoothly.”
Max’s cousins—a set of twins, Dante and Sebastian—were leaning against the stone railing, taking a few shots with Sean and Tommy. The four of them laughed loudly, clinking another round of shot glasses.
“Rose!” Tommy called, a curious look on his face. “There’s something we’ve been wondering. This whole wedding thing—are they really doing that sheet ceremony thing to prove your virginity? Seems a bit . . . invasive and medieval, don’t you think?”
“Ew,” Daisy said, her expression making it clear she was wondering why they’d ask a question like that.
I blinked, taken aback. This was the first I’d heard of this . . . “ceremony.” I glanced around, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort. “Sheet ceremony? What are you talking about, Tommy?”
Tommy looked slightly embarrassed, but he pressed on. “You know, the tradition where the newlyweds have to prove the bride’s virginity by showing a bloodstained sheet after the wedding night. Heard Sebastian and Dante talkin’ about it.”
I blinked again. “Well, that sounds ridiculous. The Romanos are traditional, but they’re not living in the Dark Ages.”
Sebastian shook his head slowly. “It’s the Outfit. We’ve got old traditions in Catholic families,” he said.
Dante chimed in. “Yeah, they’ve been doing it for generations. It’s supposed to prove the bride is pure, and it’s a big deal for the family’s reputation.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. The idea was both shocking and unsettling. “That won’t be happening,” I said firmly.
Dante shrugged. “What if you don’t have a choice? Some of the older folks in the family take these traditions very seriously.”
Sean, who’d been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, his voice laced with irritation. “Do you want to ask her any more invasive questions, Dante? What the fuck?”
Sebastian interjected. “Look, I just thought you should know. I’m not endorsing it.”
Just as I was about to respond, Max appeared at my side, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
“You know what’s crazy?” Max’s eyes gave a quiet warning to Dante and Sebastian. “Me. Don’t ask her fucking questions like that.”
A smile crept onto my cheeks. Gosh, he was clingy.
Feeling the need for a moment to myself, I gently pulled my hand from Max’s and stepped away.
At the bar, I ordered my usual. I took a sip of the martini and looked up at Sean.
“Can I steal you for a dance?” he asked.
I couldn’t say no to him.
We moved to the dance floor, where Sean spun me around.
We danced for a few songs, and I felt the heat of a familiar stare on my back.
I turned, finding Max standing protectively right where I’d left him.
Dante and Sebastian were continuing their hushed conversation, and Max looked like he was about to lose it as he watched Sean dance with me.
Max’s eyes were on the verge of burning a hole in my dress. It was a look that told me I wasn’t getting away from him next time. I knew I’d have to face him sooner or later, and the anticipation was eating away at me.
I was thrilled and terrified.
Mostly terrified.
Sean noticed my distraction and followed my gaze to the bar. “Looks like he’s thinking about all the different ways he could kill me right now for having my hand on your waist.”
“He’ll behave, don’t worry. He’s harmless.”
“Ay. Is he treating you well?”
“He doesn’t treat me badly,” I admitted.
Sean smirked, his grip tightening on my waist. “Well, if he steps out of line, kiddo, you know where to find me.”
With a reluctant nod, I pulled away from him and found my way through the crowd. The faces blurred together as I approached the back hall, right where I’d first kissed Max.
As if on cue, he came out from behind me, trapping me between him and a wall like last time. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes narrowed, studying my reaction.
Had I? I guess I had been. I was nervous to go home with him. He’d told me he was going to have his way with me. To say I wasn’t ready was an understatement.
“I’ve been busy,” I replied, keeping my voice level.
Max leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Busy dancing with other men, it seems.”
“Jealous?” I asked, arching an eyebrow as I tried to maintain my composure.
His lips curved into a faint smile. “Very,” he admitted, his voice laced with a possessiveness that made my tummy burn. “If his hand were an inch lower, he’d only have one by tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes, biting back my smile. I knew it was an empty threat. “You’d really do that to him?”
“No,” he replied simply.
“Oh, how noble,” I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. “Lucifer himself is practically a saint.” I couldn’t help but smirk as I shifted my weight onto one hip.
He chuckled softly. “Just doing my civic duty.”
“You’re a menace,” I whispered.
“And you’re not? You knew what you were doing. Avoiding me. Procrastinating. Dragging out this night.” Max brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering.
It was so hard to breathe around him sometimes, especially when he leaned in even closer, just like he was doing now, his lips a whisper away from my skin.
“Why would I do that?” I managed to ask even though I already knew the answer.
“Because you know what will happen once I get you alone.”
I glared at him and felt a flush creeping up my cheeks.
“And if you look at me like that,” he continued, his tone darkening, “I’ll be taking you from behind.”
His words didn’t shock me anymore. In fact, I kind of liked them. “Look at you how?”
“Like you hate me,” he murmured.
“Oh, but you know that’s because I do,” I said, biting down on my smile.
The flush returned to my cheeks, though it felt warmer this time. Max’s thumbs brushed lightly against my lower lip. “I know you’re full of shit,” he said slowly, “and I know I will be getting honesty from you tonight.”
“You’re so sure of yourself,” I whispered, my voice trembling just a bit, betraying the confidence I tried to maintain. I swallowed hard, but his eyes never left mine.
“I know what I want. And I think I’ve earned it,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly against my arm. “Don’t you?”
“It would be against my better judgment to say what you want me to say.”
“We leave in ten, Rosalie.” Max’s eyes softened. “Say your goodbyes.”
Finally, he turned on his heel, leaving me to do exactly as he said.