Chapter 32
Evelyn
Luna was a year old, and Victor and I were finally getting married today.
Calling it "long overdue" was putting it mildly. This wedding had dragged on for nearly a year from planning to execution. Not because anything was wrong between us—it all started with something I said when he was half-dead under the rubble.
He'd been covered in blood, barely conscious, yet still using his last bit of strength to talk to me. I was crying so hard I could barely breathe. All I could say was that I wanted the most extravagant wedding, wanted him to vow before everyone to marry me.
Just that one sentence. I'd only said it in a moment of panic, trying to keep him with me. But Victor remembered. Not only remembered—he spent nearly a year making it come true.
So here I stood in the dressing room, staring at myself in the floor-length mirror wearing this wedding dress, my emotions all over the place.
The dress was beautiful—covered in gleaming pearls and crystals. The dress alone had taken six months to custom-make. But the dress wasn't what had me feeling this way. It was what lay outside the window.
I glanced out at the ceremony site and nearly dropped my jaw.
It was insanely over the top. The entire manor's back garden had been transformed into an open-air white palace.
Countless white rose archways lined the aisle, every column wrapped in fresh flowers and ribbons.
Crystal chandeliers hung suspended in midair, scattering fractured light everywhere.
The fountain had been completely redecorated, its surface floating with hundreds upon thousands of white blooms. The guest section was packed chair to chair with people—from here it looked like a state dinner.
I rubbed my temples and let out a genuine groan.
"This is too much..." I stared at the scene outside that could rival a royal wedding, my voice thick with resignation. "Great. Now, all of New York's going to think I married Victor for his money. Perfect fulfillment of every society matron's gossip fantasy."
Lisa—my recently hired maid, a straight-talking young woman—was behind me adjusting my train. She looked up, completely unbothered. "Isn't that perfect though? People who hate you are grinding their teeth while you're still doing better than all of them. What could be better than that?"
I paused, then laughed.
"You've got a point."
"Of course I do," Lisa said as she pinned my veil in place. "And honestly, don't you deserve this, Evelyn? You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen."
"Okay, okay, stop." I cut her off quickly. Any more and I might actually start believing it. I glanced around. "Where's Luna?"
"Oh, Luna," Lisa's expression turned peculiar. "Alexander was holding her earlier, then Julian snatched her away."
I took a deep breath.
Here we go again.
Luna was nothing like Victor or me. She was born with this natural sunshine quality—always smiling, always happy, never crying when held by anyone, grinning at everyone.
A true angel. This should have been comforting—proof she hadn't inherited her father's darkness or her mother's stubbornness. Problem was, Luna was too popular.
Specifically, too popular with Alexander and Julian.
My grandfather Alexander—the stubborn old man who used to hang up on me after barely two sentences—had been like someone flipped a switch since he finally agreed to visit the manor and see Luna six months ago.
His visits went from once a month to every two weeks to now basically every week, claiming he was worried we didn't know how to care for a child.
In reality, every visit meant sitting in the garden with Luna in his lap, basking in the sun all afternoon, letting no one else near her.
And Julian—this older brother of hers—had somehow made spoiling his sister his life's mission. The toys he bought Luna filled half a room, and he insisted he was better with kids than Alexander. Every time they met, they'd argue over who Luna liked more.
Last time Alexander visited, Julian happened to be there too. They stood off in the living room for ten solid minutes over who got to hold Luna. It only ended when Luna crawled to me instead.
The scene was pretty funny, honestly. But what made me happier was that the barriers between us had finally started breaking down. This manor no longer felt like a cold stone tomb.
For me, that was enough.
Though today was my wedding, and I really didn't want to deal with another Julian-versus-Alexander battle for Luna.
"Let them fight over her," I told Lisa, sighing in resignation. "During the ceremony, Luna's got to be the flower girl anyway. Neither of them can hold her then. God knows who'll come whining to me about it later."
The ceremony was starting.
I stood at the head of the aisle, Alexander beside me.
He wore a deep gray three-piece suit today, his silver hair combed impeccably, looking solemn and dignified.
But I noticed his hand holding my arm trembled slightly.
"Hey, that's rare," I said quietly. "You're nervous?"
Alexander stared straight ahead, expression unchanging. "Nervous isn't in my vocabulary."
"Your hand's shaking."
"It's windy."
I laughed.
This family—every man in it was equally stubborn.
At the other end of the aisle, Luna toddled along at the front.
She wore a fluffy white dress, clutching a small basket of flower petals.
She was supposed to scatter them along the path, but this little troublemaker clearly misunderstood the concept of "scattering"—she'd walk two steps, stop, pick out petals one by one to examine them, then stuff them in her mouth.
Julian stood in the first row of guests, gesturing frantically but quietly at Luna, signaling her to keep walking, stop eating. Luna glanced back at him, stuffed another petal in her mouth, then grinned at Julian.
I heard gentle laughter ripple through the guests.
Then I looked up, past Luna's fuzzy little head, and saw Victor at the end of the aisle.
He stood there.
Deep black suit, white shirt, a small white calla lily pinned to his chest. His hair was perfectly groomed. He looked like a different person from usual.
And right now, he was looking at me quietly.
My eyes suddenly burned.
Alexander's hand tightened, leading me forward step by step.
Today's guests packed the place—I'd thought I'd be nervous, but in the end my vision blurred with tears. The whole world narrowed to just that man standing straight at the end of the aisle, waiting for me.
We reached Victor. Alexander solemnly placed my hand in Victor's.
"You're crying," he said quietly.
"Shut up." I sniffled.
Victor's mouth curved slightly.
The priest stood before us, opening his book, beginning the vows. Sunlight filtered through the rose archways above the aisle, spreading broken gold across the ground. The air smelled of flowers and cool autumn wind.
"Victor Moretti, do you take Evelyn to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, will you love her, honor her, cherish her, until death do you part?"
Victor looked at me, his tone calm as if stating a fact.
"I do."
No hesitation, no tremor, no extra embellishment. Just two words, yet I felt those two words carried all this man's weight.
The priest turned to me.
"Evelyn, do you take Victor to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, will you love him, honor him, cherish him, until death do you part?"
I looked into Victor's eyes.
Of course. The answer was obvious. I'd been waiting for this moment every single day.
"I do."
The moment the priest announced the ceremony complete, Victor didn't wait for "you may kiss your bride"—he was already leaning down to kiss me.
The reception dragged on far longer than the ceremony itself, and was far more exhausting.
Victor was serious. He'd actually invited half of New York to this wedding.
Politicians, businessmen, media, celebrities—wave after wave coming to chat, toast, take photos.
I smiled until my face went numb, my hand shaken countless times, my heels sinking into the lawn over and over.
Even more ridiculous—he'd somehow tracked down my childhood neighbors, middle school classmates, even college acquaintances I'd only met two or three times.
One by one, they appeared before me, cheerfully saying "long time no see. "
My composure completely crumbled after the third hour.
Once the guests finally thinned out a bit, I slipped away when no one was looking, found a corner of the ballroom, kicked off my heels, and collapsed into a chair.
Victor appeared in front of me out of nowhere.
He held a champagne glass, looking down at my disheveled state, a faint curve on his lips.
"Isn't this the grand wedding you wanted?"
I glared at him viciously.
"That doesn't mean you had to invite this many people!
" I complained while rubbing my aching ankles.
"Media and celebrities aside, what's with tracking down all my childhood neighbors and classmates?
That guy who sat behind me in middle school English—I can't even remember his name.
He came up, saying, 'I always knew you'd marry well. ' I'm not even sure we ever spoke!"
Victor was silent for a second, then said, "He had a crush on you in school."
"What?"
"It was in Luca's report."
"You—" I took a deep breath, realizing arguing with this man was a waste of life. "You investigated my classmates' crush histories?"
"Luca's very thorough. I think he deserves a vacation as a reward."
"This is a wedding, not the UN summit!"
Victor didn't argue. He just set down his champagne glass, then did something that caught me off guard—he bent down, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back, and lifted me up effortlessly.
"What are you doing?" I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck.
"You're tired," he said matter-of-factly. "So we're leaving."
"Leaving where? This is our wedding! We can't—"