Fragile Longing

Serafina’s number finally disappeared from the screen, and I stifled a sigh of relief. I wanted this day to be about me. Talking to her now would only increase my feelings of inadequacy. Today, I’d be selfish.

Dad looked surprised when I stepped into the hallway without the veil, but he didn’t comment. We linked arms and he led me downstairs to the driveway where the bridal car waited. Samuel stood beside it, his vigilant eyes scanning our surroundings. In one hand, he held my wedding bouquet—a gorgeous, sweeping arrangement of white flowers: roses, calla lilies, and smaller intricate blossoms. When his gaze settled on me, his face lit up, his smile easing some of my anxiety.

Dad led me toward him. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Samuel pulled me against him and kissed my forehead. “I can’t believe my little sister is getting married today.”

“You’re next,” I teased as he handed me the flowers. He pulled away and nodded, the smile becoming tenser. Samuel hadn’t chosen Emma because he wanted her. He’d been forced into the bond in exchange for Danilo marrying me. Sometimes I managed to forget that fact, but now it came back with a soul-sucking force.

Samuel opened the door for me, and Dad helped me get into the backseat with my long skirt. Samuel sat shotgun while Dad took the seat beside me. Then he gave the sign to the bodyguards in the cars in front and behind us, and we set out for the church.

Nerves fluttered wildly in my stomach. I twisted my engagement ring around. It was beautiful and I still loved it. Sometimes, I wondered why Danilo had chosen a different design than the one for Serafina. I pushed thoughts of her out of my mind. She wouldn’t be physically present today, and I couldn’t allow her to take up room in my mind, even if it hurt me to ban her from the most important day of my life.

The drive to church was only five minutes. It had been chosen based on its closeness to our hotel and wedding location to avoid a long drive. The driver pulled the car up right in front of the entrance, where four bodyguards stood at attention.

Dad took my hand and kissed it. “Ready, ladybug?”

I nodded, even as my throat became tight. This was it. I’d marry Danilo today and move out of my home. What would my life be like now? I’d been raised in a warm and loving home. Danilo had been so cool and restrained, except for that one night, and the tenderness he’d shown me afterwards had been unexpected.

Dad opened the door and got out, and like Samuel, he scanned our surroundings first before he held out his hand for me. I doubted anyone would kidnap me. I had never feared that. The Camorra had no reason to do it. They had what they wanted, and I hoped Fina’s influence on her husband would prevent anything from happening.

I put my trembling fingers into Dad’s, and he squeezed gently, giving me one of his reassuring smiles.

With a smile of my own, I maneuvered myself out of the backseat. Samuel gave a quick nod before he slipped into the church to give the small orchestra a sign.

I took a deep breath and gave Dad a shaky nod.

The moment we entered the church, my skin flushed with heat and my pulse sped up. Everyone stood, their eyes directed at me. Hundreds of guests, most of whom I hardly knew, some not even by name. Now I wished I’d kept the veil. It would have protected me from their scrutiny and hidden my own nerves from the audience.

Accompanied by violins and a piano, Dad and I slowly walked toward the front where Danilo was waiting. The pews were decorated mostly in white, but unlike my bouquet, the small floral arrangements had dusky pink roses added for a subdued color accent.

Danilo looked better than he had in any of my wedding fantasies. He was tall and fit, his dark suit accentuating his muscular build and conveying power and sophistication. He wore a silver tie, so fitting for his cool persona. His brown eyes never wavered from me, but his expression was impossible to read. I didn’t detect a flicker of nerves or excitement. He was composed and controlled, as if this was duty and nothing to get his pulse racing. I wished I could be like him, but even now, I longed for a bond driven by love and affection, a bond that went deeper than political tactics.When Sofia had taken her sister’s stead more than six years ago, I’d considered her the consolation prize. She’d been a child. I hadn’t been able to see her as anything but the cute kid who followed me like a lost puppy. She’d been an afterthought. My thoughts had revolved around Serafina, around what had been taken from me, what I’d lost. I couldn’t get past that hit to my pride, still battled almost uncontrollable rage when I thought about Remo Falcone, and ever since she ran off with him, Serafina as well.