Chapter 9
Stefan
“Christ. Let me do that before you choke yourself to death.” Carlo shoved my hands away from my tie. The tie I'd been trying to tie for the last ten minutes.
For some fucking reason, I just couldn't get it right.
“Why are you so nervous?” my brother asked me as his hands worked on my tie. “You're getting exactly what you want. In minutes, that curvy, gorgeous woman is going to wander down the stairs and marry your sorry ass.” He tightened the tie and stepped away.
“This wasn't exactly how I imagined our wedding to be,” I said dryly. I turned and looked in the mirror and straightened my coat.
Carlo grinned and said, “Our mother's going to have a fit when she finds out. But who cares? You'll have another wedding in Italy to placate her.”
I shut my eyes and groaned, “Fuck.” I hadn't even thought about Mom. I was such an asshole.
Carlo chuckled. “There's time, man. Lots of time.
The main thing is that you found her. And convinced her to marry you.
All in the span of a couple of hours. I'd say that's pretty fuckin' amazing.” He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in for a brief hug.
“I know everything seems like a shitshow right now.
But we'll fix that in time. Right now, I want you to get your head out of your ass and enjoy the fact that you're marrying the woman you love.” He let go of me and reached into the front pocket of his suit coat and pulled something out.
“Here, I know you didn't have time to pick out a ring.”
I looked down at the white gold ring between his fingertips. Then, I leaned in to take a better look. “That was—” I started to say but he interrupted me.
“Nona's, yeah. She'd want you to have it.”
I looked at my brother and shook my head. “Nah. She gave it to you.”
Carlo shrugged nonchalantly and grabbed my hand with his free one.
He set the ring in my palm and closed my fingers.
“And I'm giving it to you. The only reason she gave it to me is because I'm the first-born son. So, I get to decide what happens to it.” He jerked his head toward my hand. “And I just decided.”
I felt a large lump form in my throat.
Nona specifically gave that ring to Carlo. There were certain traditions in our family. And that was one of them.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Brother. I really do. But that's just not right. She gave the ring to you. It's yours.” I motioned to give it back to him, but he moved away.
“Can I level with you? Giselle doesn't like sapphires. She'll never wear it, anyway. It'll end up sitting in a drawer for the next eighty years.”
I looked down at the ring my grandmother used to wear. It was a family heirloom. Expensive as fuck.
Price didn't matter, though. It was the sentiment.
I knew that.
My brother knew that, too.
“So, you give it to Dani when the time's right.”
He smirked. “She won't want it either. She's just like her mom. A diamond girl all the way.”
I frowned at him. “There's plenty of diamonds on here.” And there were. The cushion cut sapphire was the largest stone, but there were many smaller diamonds surrounding it. Plus, all the ones down the band.
He held his hands up. “Look, you want to give it to your girl? Or do you want it to sit in some dark drawer? I'm telling you the truth. Nobody wants it. And you don't have a fuckin' ring for your girl. Would you rather fashion one out of tinfoil?”
That thought made me laugh. Mostly because I really didn't think Francesca would mind a ring made out of tinfoil.
For one thing, she knew I wouldn't have time to go buy something—it was the middle of the night.
Francesca just wasn't the kind of woman who'd give a shit what kind of wedding ring I gave her.
But—I cared.
And I cared a lot.
Giving this ring to the woman I loved would mean more to me than it would to her. Having her wear a family heirloom—even if it was just until she could pick out something else—would mean the world to me.
If I couldn't have my Nona here—or any of my living relatives besides my brother—then the ring would at least be a symbol of my family.
At my wedding.
To the woman I loved.
I peered over at my brother. “You sure about this? Because you're not getting it back after I put it on Francesca's finger.”
He laughed loudly and nodded. “I'm sure.”
The door to the basement flew open, and Nick walked through it with an armful of Christmas lights. “Gentlemen, we have an assignment.”