Chapter 7
Valentina
The morning of the wedding, I woke up bright and early to a message on my phone. It was from Enzo, going over today’s plans. He’d get ready here at the townhouse but stay out of my way, only leaving after I headed to the church with my relatives.
I let out a sigh of relief as I climbed out of bed. He’d clearly left the run of the townhouse to me as a courtesy. A groom’s way of avoiding seeing the bride and the dress before the ceremony.
Despite the relief at this courtesy, butterflies fluttered around restlessly in my stomach.
Today, more than ever, I still felt like a bartered bride again—ready to be sold off to some unknown man.
Because even after spending all this time with Enzo, I didn’t know his heart at all.
He had used me and lied all this time. The man I loved did not exist. All the passion he had shown was fake.
A trap to ensnare me. I had thought that he had been protective of me because he cared.
I had truly believed that there was an unexpectedly kind side underneath the ruthless man he presented.
But it had all been an act. Enzo was ruthless down to his bones and I had been a lovestruck fool to forget it.
This wedding was complete folly on my part.
I would be gaining the power to keep my enemies closer while losing my heart in the process.
A heart was a terrible price to pay for power.
When I had first met Enzo, that night at the opera, it would never have occurred to me that I could possibly fall in love with him.
We’d both been so consumed by hate, that love didn’t seem remotely feasible.
How wrong I had been. I loved my enemy more than I loved anyone or anything in this world, and that fact was nearly bringing me to anguished tears on my wedding day.
Swallowing my pain as best as I could, I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my hair, and take a hot shower. I was putting on a fresh robe and forcing myself to eat a light breakfast of fruit and croissants when the doorbell sounded. Excited female voices drifted through the house.
That must have been my mother arriving with my cousins.
My female cousins would act as my bridesmaids, with my oldest cousin Gianna taking the part of my maid of honor.
I hurried out of my bedroom to find my mother, my cousins, the dress-fitter, hairstylist, makeup artist, and nail techs in the foyer, along with my chauffeur bringing an armful of wedding presents.
I welcomed them in, hugging loved ones before leading them to the living room and some spare rooms where my cousins could change into their red bridesmaids’ dresses and my chauffeur could leave this latest pile of wedding gifts. Then, I showed my mom and the team of stylists to my room.
First, they all helped me into my dress then sat me down at my vanity to begin working on my hair and makeup.
The stylist pinned up my hair in a loose, romantic half up, half down look complete with a diamond tiara.
Meanwhile, the nail tech gave me a fresh manicure and the makeup artist got busy working on a mostly understated look—natural-looking makeup with a rose-red lip for drama.
When they were done, the fitter helped me into my shoes.
Four-inch heels instead of six. I didn’t want to risk falling or being uncomfortable walking down the aisle on my big day.
Finally, everything was done and my mother helped me stand so that I could look at myself in the full-length mirrors covering my closet doors.
“What do you think?” my mother asked gently.
I stared at myself in wonder. Somehow, I looked even more breathtaking than when I did at the dress fitting. With the diamond tiara sparkling under my bedroom lights, I truly looked like a mafia princess. Elegant with a deadly beauty that some would underestimate.
“Perfect,” I replied. “Great job, everybody.”
“I agree,” Mom said, smiling at me in the mirror. “You are a vision, Lena. The most beautiful bride in the world.”
Sad as I was, I returned her smile, gratitude swelling inside me.
Mom knew how hard this was for me. She knew that my love for Enzo wasn’t reciprocated so it was clear that she was trying to find other things that would make me happy.
I leaned on her then, thankful that I had a mother who cared about me.
Now that I was ready, I stepped out of my room with the help of my team and went back to the living room to find my cousins all dressed in their red dresses.
The response was enough to flatter even me.
My cousins oohed and ahhed over me, their eyes lighting up as I entered the living room.
Next thing I knew, they were crowding around me begging to take my picture.
I granted them some photos and then my mom was trying to usher us out of the house so we could make our way to the church.
With my cousins helping me with my train, I made my way out of the house and down the front steps to stop in front of the white, three-row luxury car.
My chauffeur held the door open for me while mom and the team helped me settle into my seat in the middle row.
Mom got in beside me and the team sat in the remaining seats.
We started to drive off, my cousins getting into the row of cars behind us.
Inside the car, someone handed me my small bouquet of roses.
I grasped the stems of the flowers tightly, desperate for something to hold on to.
The wedding jitters were starting to take over.
I was already feeling a little out-of-body like I was watching everything, but not quite grounded in what was happening.
Maybe that was for the best. Maybe this out-of-body sensation would help to ease the worst of my heartache.
As we drove through the streets, my mom held up an extra purse. “We’ve got your phone, your makeup, and anything else you might need in here. If you need anything, just say the word.”
I nodded absently, my heart and my mind still distracted by wayward thoughts of Enzo.
But I wasn’t focused on the groom the way an ordinary bride would be.
I wasn’t going through all the joys of our relationship.
Or dreaming about the days to come as a newlywed.
Instead, I was trapped by my own pain. Paralyzed by the knowledge that this marriage was dead on arrival.
Forcing myself to take a calming breath, I decided to concentrate on the real purpose of the wedding.
On paper, Enzo and I were getting married to stop this terrible war between our families.
But with a hitman still coming after us, one dangerous, unpredictable move from the assassin could drag us back into bloody conflict.
I needed to use the wedding to watch for potential adversaries.
If I could spot anyone acting suspiciously, that might be enough evidence to find the hitman and put an end to this.
Keeping my loved ones safe came first—even before my broken heart.
Finally, we arrived at the church where my mom and the team helped me into one of the private chambers.
I sat down so hairstylist could fuss over my hair while the makeup artist could retouch my makeup.
I felt anxious, my nerves fraying as the buzzing sound of scores of voices came in from the main church.
The guests were assembling, and that was twisting my stomach into knots.
Both of the warring families were once again assembling under the same roof.
This would be yet another major test of peace.
Could they grudgingly watch one of their own marry their greatest enemy without the situation deteriorating into violence?
The faster we got through this ceremony, the safer all of us would be.
My heart began to race, my insides churning as time ticked by and the voices in the church grew louder as more guests arrived. About fifteen minutes into my wait, my mom took out her phone, saying, “Your father is here. You’re to meet with him soon.”
The anxiety intensified, shaking my resolve to put on a brave face and act like everything was fine. I worried about coming apart in front of all those guests. What if I panicked as I walked down the aisle or started crying about my fate?
I squared my shoulders then, looking at myself in the vanity mirror in front of me.
Now was not the time to unravel. Romanos did not give in to fear.
We strategized and used our cunning to defeat whatever was standing in our way.
I would not fall to pieces in front of an audience of guests that included my family, Enzo’s family, and New York’s elite.
I would not humiliate myself or my family no matter how hard Enzo had tried to do just that through this entire ordeal.
It was then, right as I was giving myself an internal pep talk, that my mom tapped me on the shoulder to let me know it was time to get going.
“Enzo has arrived, which means you are to meet your father now,” Mom informed me.
My insides turned to jelly just hearing Enzo’s name.
No, stop it, I mentally commanded. You will not give him the satisfaction of ruining this marriage pact.
I was going to make this walk down the aisle look effortless, no matter how much pain each step caused me.
I would hold up my family’s end of the bargain.
We would not look go back on our word so that the De Lucas could take advantage.
Mom made her exit so that she could enter the church while the bridesmaids and the maid of honor helped me out of the private room to the church doors outside, where I found my father waiting with the groomsmen already lined up.
I felt my stomach lurch as I approached my father.
With my escape to the safehouse upstate and the fire that almost killed Enzo, I hadn’t spent much time with Father all these weeks.
In fact, until yesterday’s rehearsal, I hadn’t seen Papa since one of our video chats while he was in the hospital.
Luckily, he’d been discharged from the hospital weeks ago so he could recuperate from the hitman’s bullet that nearly took his life.
My father looked far better than the last time I saw him in the video chat from his hospital room. He’d regained some weight and the color had returned to his face, thank goodness.
“Lena, you look like an angel,” Papa complimented me as I leaned closer to greet him with a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you,” I said, taking my position next to him.
Wedding march music was playing, signaling that my mom and Enzo were already taking their places inside. Next, the groomsmen and the bridesmaids headed down the aisle together, leaving me to stand at the entrance, waiting with Papa.
As the crowd of groomsmen and bridesmaids thinned, I craned my neck to peek at the assembled guests sitting in the pews.
The church was full—just about every available seat taken by both families plus the various friends and associates we all relied on to keep our illicit business going.
From here, I could see the New York City politicians, real estate titans, and media moguls we kept on our side with bribes, favors, and blackmail.
And that was just the more legitimate faces.
The rest of the crowd was made of mobsters, enforcers, associates, and hitmen that made my family’s underground empire run.
No doubt Enzo’s people were sitting on the groom’s side just waiting for an excuse to antagonize us.
Finally, the last of the bridesmaids and groomsmen took their places and the wedding music began to swell. That was the signal to begin my walk with Papa.