Chapter Twenty-Four AURORA #3
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. “High praise coming from you, little supervillain. Remember when you threatened to poison Leo’s coffee if he ever hurt Chiara?”
Sienna grinned wickedly. “And I stand by that threat. He’s on thin ice forever.”
Matteo snorted from the doorway, shaking his head. “You two are terrifying. Santino’s going to lose his mind when he sees you, Aurora. The man has been pacing the rose garden for the last twenty minutes like a caged animal. Marco had to physically stop him from coming up here early.”
Chiara smiled softly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she stood and smoothed down the skirt of my dress. “He already has. I’ve never seen him like this. Nervous. Happy. Actually happy.”
The four of us, me, Chiara, Sienna, and Matteo, stood together for a long moment, the Ventura siblings finally reunited in something that felt like peace.
After the blood, the fear, the betrayals, and the impossible choices, it was a small miracle we were all here, breathing the same air without shadows hanging over us.
Sienna broke the comfortable silence first, as she always did.
She circled me once more, adjusting a stray curl.
“So, big sister. You’re really doing it.
Officially marrying the Devil this time.
No dramatic altar shootings required. No blood on the dress.
Just flowers, vows, and one very possessive mafia husband waiting to put a ring on your finger. ”
“Progress,” Matteo deadpanned, his smirk widening. “Though I still think we should have made him grovel a little more. The man did kidnap you.”
I rolled my eyes, but my smile refused to fade. “Shut up, both of you. You’re going to make me cry and ruin Sienna’s masterpiece.”
Chiara gently shooed my younger siblings toward the door with a fond laugh. “Give us a minute, you two. Go terrorize the caterers or something.”
Once the door clicked shut behind Sienna’s dramatic eye-roll and Matteo’s quiet chuckle, the room grew softer, quieter. Chiara turned to me fully, taking both my hands in hers. Her eyes were soft, full of regret and deep, unwavering love.
“Aurora…” she started, her voice thick with emotion.
“I’m so sorry. For everything. For pushing you toward Sergio.
For thinking an arranged marriage was the only way to keep you safe in this world.
I was terrified, terrified of losing you the way we lost so much to Papa.
I thought control meant protection. I thought if I could just guide you into something stable, something familiar, you wouldn’t have to suffer like I did. I was wrong. So wrong.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. I squeezed her hands tightly, feeling the warmth of her grip ground me.
“I forgive you,” I whispered, my voice trembling but sure.
“I know you were trying to protect me the only way you knew how. You were scared too. We both were. And I’m sorry as well.
For running away that day. For keeping secrets.
For making you worry so much when you were already carrying the weight of everything else.
I should have trusted you more. Talked to you instead of bolting. ”
Chiara pulled me into a tight, fierce hug, the kind we used to share when we were little girls staying up all night whispering about escaping to the ocean, about bookstores and motorcycles and freedom. Her arms wrapped around me like she never wanted to let go.
“You’re happy?” she asked against my hair, voice muffled but hopeful. “Truly happy? Even with… everything he is?”
I nodded, smiling through the tears that slipped down my cheeks.
“I am. Santino… he’s not perfect. He’s still the devil.
Possessive, dangerous, intense. But he’s my devil.
He fights for me. He protects me. He loves me in a way I never thought possible.
And I love him. All of him, the darkness and the man underneath. ”
Chiara pulled back just enough to brush a tear from my cheek with her thumb. Her own eyes were wet, but she was smiling now, a real, warm smile that reached her eyes.
“Then that’s all I need to know,” she said softly.
“You deserve to choose your own happiness. Even if it comes wrapped in a very possessive, very dangerous, very devoted man. I’m so proud of you, little sister.
For surviving. For choosing. For becoming this strong, beautiful woman standing in front of me. ”
We hugged again, longer this time, letting the past hurts and old promises settle into something healed. When we finally pulled apart, both of us laughing through tears, a soft knock came at the door.
Sienna poked her head in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you two are done with the emotional sister reunion, the groom is about to wear a hole straight through the garden path.’”
Chiara gave me one last squeeze, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Ready?”
I looked at myself in the mirror one final time. The woman staring back was no longer the scared, lost girl who had been dragged from that blood-stained altar in a ruined dress. She was stronger. Loved. Chosen. Ready.
“I’m ready.”