Chapter Nineteen
As the sun sets behind the trees, Sofia and Luciano’s rehearsal dinner is officially coming to life at the campsite.
The main seating area is decorated with elegant white tablecloths, high-backed white chairs, and thick, plush cushions.
String lights are strung up on poles and hanging across the trees, creating a canopy and giving off a warm, golden glow that illuminates the entire area.
Luscious bouquets of white roses, periwinkles, hyacinths, and dahlias adorn the tables, with large and incredibly tall centerpieces cascading over the vessels’ sides.
Flickering candles placed between the flowers add an extra layer of coziness.
At each place setting, delicately folded white napkins and silverware glisten in the light.
A small vase with a single white flower is placed on each plate.
A garland of greenery and white flowers, delicately interwoven with a sparkling string of fairy lights, runs down the center of the serving table.
Maria snorts as we stare at the immaculate setup. “That’s a lot of white for a place full of dirt.”
We spent the last couple of hours getting ready while the bridal party rehearsed their entrances for the ceremony.
Maria is wearing an emerald-green pleated Badgley Mischka gown.
The sleeves are long, reaching down to her wrists, but mesh, so she can probably still feel the slight chill in the air.
The frock’s plunging V-shape neckline is perfect for displaying her diamond necklace.
As for me? My burgundy off-the-shoulder dress clings to my every curve.
The cap sleeves lie just below the top of my shoulders, perfectly displaying my collarbones and the tiny key necklace my father gave me.
It’s not designer, but it’s so stunning I may just be able to get away with it tonight.
I catch myself thinking I could say it’s Vera Wang, and part of me is ready to.
The truth, though, is so close to the surface now that I wonder if there’s even a point.
But then, the fear creeps back in. I’ve protected myself from Silvana’s threats, but what if someone still finds out?
If the wrong person catches wind of my truth, I could lose everything—the investment, the restaurant, and my last chance to save my family’s legacy.
So maybe, just for tonight, I’ll keep pretending.
Because as much as I want to be real, I can’t afford for anyone to know the truth—not yet.
“I wish you would have told me you would wear a burgundy dress. We look like fucking Christmas over here.”
We walk in unison toward the dinner. Unsurprisingly, Sofia has set up a cocktail hour beforehand.
Several bar tables covered in white linen have been placed around the center of the path, keeping the guests away from the seating area until all the food is ready.
Maria reaches for two glasses of pink champagne a waiter is carrying on a tray and hands me one.
We stand around one of the tables and begin surveying the situation. I can’t help but look for Valentina.
Maria smirks. “She’s probably in the kitchen finishing up.”
“Who?”
“Oh, please, Isa. The woman you’re so desperately searching for right now. Valentina’s not here. Plus, she was probably at rehearsal, so she had to return to the kitchen and ensure the staff was okay.”
I scoff. “I’m not looking for her.”
I was, but I wouldn’t admit that. The trees surrounding the dinner tables are wrapped in twinkling lights and draped with more garlands of greenery and flowers. White paper lanterns are strung from tree to tree, creating a canopy of soft golden light that bathes the entire area in a romantic glow.
As guests slowly arrive, they are greeted by the servers, who are dressed in crisp white shirts and black pants. The servers, equipped with trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks, quickly circulate among the guests, offering them delicious treats and refreshing cocktails.
“There’s Satan,” Maria mumbles and points with her eyes.
I look over to see Silvana in a bold red satin dress that drapes gracefully down to her silver strappy heels. She spots us and begins walking over as if she is gliding on air.
“Look at you two,” she says, smiling. “You look great. Is this another Forever 21 dress, Isa?”
“Silvie, you look like my period blood,” Maria retorts.
Silvana’s eyes widen, and I can see her face flush. How incredibly satisfying.
“Isa is wearing a red dress too,” she whines.
“No, it’s burgundy, and it’s classic. You look like a firetruck. Or Clifford.”
“Fuck off, Mar,” Silvana huffs and leaves to go stand with her mother, no doubt to throw shade at everyone.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” I laugh. “Thank you.”
“Oh, please. Anytime. She’s such a twat.”
A band begins to play soft jazz music, adding an extra layer of ambiance to the night.
Almost as if it was rehearsed, Sofia and Luciano appear just around the corner and glide onto the dance floor.
All the guests begin to clap, and some of the groomsmen let out a few whoops.
Luciano lifts his arm to allow some space for Sofia to twirl.
Maria laughs. “Leave it to Sofia to have multiple wedding dresses to change into for the next two days,” she says, but there’s a tinge of judgment in her voice.
Sofia is a vision in white, her dress crafted from a soft and flowing fabric that swirls beautifully with every movement.
It is practically designed to catch the light, and the shimmery fabric glints in the setting sun as if sprinkled with fairy dust. The top of the dress is simple and elegant, with a fitted bodice that hugs the curves of her torso.
The fabric flows down in layers, gathering at the waist before cascading to the floor in a frothy cloud of white.
The skirt has just the right volume to create an enchanting twirl that seems to transport her to another world.
Delicate details add to the dress’s ethereal quality.
A scattering of tiny white pearls graces the bodice, while lace details trace the neckline and hem.
The back of the dress is particularly stunning, with a delicate row of buttons running down the length of Sofia’s spine.
“Jesus, I wonder what her wedding dress will look like,” I say in awe. “I don’t think anything can top this.”
Maria chuckles. “Her wedding dress will probably have a twenty-five-foot train and require a crane to lift her to the altar.”
“Thank you so much for coming to our rehearsal dinner,” Luciano announces. “I hope you enjoy the wonderful five-course meal Valentina and her staff has prepared for us. Please find your seats when you’re ready, and we can begin eating the delicious food.”
I look around frantically, again trying to spot Valentina.
Finally, I see her in the back, walking toward Silvana.
My heart drops into my stomach like a heavy boulder falling off a cliff.
Silvana laughs at something Val says, but they’re too far away for me to hear them.
I can’t tell if Valentina is playing along or if she’s simply putting on a facade.
Part of me wants to believe she has her reasons for talking to my nemesis, but it’s hard not to feel betrayed.
Just as I am about to turn around, Valentina’s eyes meet mine.
She smiles slightly, her expression hard to read, and begins to walk toward me slowly.
The uncertainty twists in my gut—why is she engaging with Silvana like this after everything?
I need answers, but as she gets closer, I wonder if I even want to hear them.
I try to distract myself with my champagne, taking too many sips.
Her dark-grey gown drapes down to the floor, dragging on the dirt path, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
The cowl neck on the satin neckline creates a subtle sweetheart line I can’t stop staring at.
As she moves toward me, I notice a high slit on her dress that gracefully exposes one of her thighs every time she takes a step.
Underneath, she wears silver strappy heels tied up just below her knees.
Valentina smiles. “Isa, you’re a knockout.”
“Thanks. So are you,” I say shyly. “Listen, Val. I just want to say—”
“You don’t have to say anything, Isa. I get it. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did in the car. I was upset.”
“The car?” Maria whispers to herself, raising her eyebrows.
“I know—I’m sorry. Please know that this isn’t what I want to do. It’s what I have to do,” I say.
“What could she have to do?” Maria whispers to herself while taking a sip of her champagne and flagging down a server to get a few more for the table.
I look at Valentina, hesitating before finally asking, “Val, can I ask why you’re even talking to Silvana after what happened?”
She sighs, casting a quick glance in Silvana’s direction before looking back at me.
“She did apologize to me about it when she sobered up. I guess I’m just trying to keep the peace.
She’s not someone who lets go easily, and the last thing I want is for things to escalate even further. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I guess,” I murmur, unconvinced but trying to understand.
Valentina’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry if it seemed like more. I promise, it’s not.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand.
Maria, watching intently, continues her whispered commentary. “Oh, so now they’re holding hands. This is better than the movies.”
“I’m sorry. For the things I said. About your father. I know he means a lot to you.”
“Oh shit, she talked about her father,” Maria says, whispering again.
“Maria!” I shout.
“Sorry, shutting up.” She mimes a zipper being closed on her lips.
“I know, Val. It’s okay. I really do forgive you. And I hope you forgive me. I—don’t want to end things like this.”
“Or at all,” Maria whispers, even softer this time.