It’s ridiculous, I know, but feeling his warmth around me makes me calm. It’s a slight movement, but I swear his lips brushed my hair. A serene sigh leaves my lips. We arrive at Marco’s home sooner than I’d like. I was enjoying the quiet of the moment.
Even as a child, I looked for a place away from the crowd. When others were playing tag in the schoolyard, I was happily finding an excuse to assist the librarian, and in return, she gave me extra books to take home. I would sit in my room for hours poring over all kinds of adventures. I read everything I could get my hands on.
I knew I was looked upon differently even then. I didn’t realize it was because of the events of the past, but I felt it. It was Cara who embraced all of who I was. She was quick to pick me as a partner for every school project or team. We bonded and have had each other’s backs ever since.
The car door is pulled open, and I’m assisted out of the vehicle. Raffaele is quick to guide me into the house. Marco pulls up behind me with my parents in the car. I’m relieved to see that Mom and Dad are okay.
My parents hurry over, Dad pulling me into his arms, hugging me so tight that I can hardly breathe. “It’s going to be fine, figlia mia,” Dad says. When he lets go, Mom remains holding my hand. Marco calls my father’s name. He, Raffaele, and Marco disappear down the hall, leaving a roomful of guards to watch over us.
“I’m not sure what to make of this,” I say to Gloria, shaking my head.
“I’ve been married to Marco for over thirty years, and in all that time, I’ve learned never to doubt my husband’s ability to come out on top. I’ve spent many countless nights worrying about him and Nero. I can’t say that’s changed much, but I know that our men will not be bested. If there’s a fight, they’ll win,” she says in a most convincing tone.
“But why our wedding?” I ask. The women exchange glances, but remain silent. “It’s about me, isn’t it? They don’t want me married to Raffaele.”
“Of course that’s not it,” my mother blurts out. “How can you think such a thing?”
“I’m not stupid, Mom. A capo marrying a nobody? Maybe one of his men didn’t like the idea. Or maybe—”
“My men know better than to challenge my decisions,” Raffaele announces as he enters. “These are unrefined gang members who are making their presence known. And now that they’re on our radar, they’ve all signed their death certificate.”
I know better than to question his judgment, and I have no reason not to believe Raffaele, but I feel like there’s more to it than he’s saying.
“The guests are arriving,” Gloria says. “Let’s freshen up.” She turns to her husband. “We’ll be upstairs.”
“Francesco, wait outside the door,” Raffaele orders. “Don’t take too long, ladies. I’m looking forward to the first dance with my wife,” he teases, flashing a brilliant smile. Heaven help me! He’s so handsome when he looks at me like that.
* * *
Evangeline
The garden is decorated with lights and flowers. The table settings are pristine silver and fine china. Each table has its own dedicated waiter. Marco has spared no expense to create the perfect reception for us.
Dad was concerned about the cost, but wouldn’t dare speak up to his capo. When he approached Marco about paying for the wedding, Marco insisted that it was his wedding gift to Raffaele and me. Dad was concerned about how this would look to his new son-in-law. After all, it’s traditional for the bride’s parents to pay for the wedding. Marco agreed that they should do this together, but I’m sure that based on the extravagance of the evening, he made sure that Dad is paying only a fraction of the cost.
My feet are numb from standing in the reception line, kissing cheeks and shaking the hands of people I’ve never met before. That’s not necessarily true. I know most of the underbosses invited from La Famiglia. Several couples from Ultimo Morte have come to give their best wishes to Raffaele and me. They seemed pleased that Raffaele has finally settled down.
A lovely older man, Sam, and his wife, Concetta—he calls her Connie for short—are extremely kind and tell me they would like to host a dinner in our honor when we’re back home.
“It will be a wonderful night, and it’ll give you a chance to meet many of the other women,” Connie says brightly.
“Thank you,” I reply politely, smiling back. “It would be nice to get to know you all. It can be a little intimidating starting in a new place,” I confess.
“We’re all so happy for our capo. Pretty soon, we’ll have little capos running around.” She giggles. Her husband joins in, and I do my best not to look panic-stricken. Raffaele puts an arm around my waist and tucks me in closer to his side.
“Ah, Connie, give us time to settle before you start planning baby showers. I’d like to give Evangeline time to get to know us all. Although, we do accept your invitation for dinner. It will be a good way to celebrate for those who needed to stay back,” Raffaele says, giving me time to compose myself.
I love kids, and I’ve always wanted them, but up to now it’s been a dream to settle down with the man I love and have two adorable children. Instead, I’m married to a dangerous man, head of one of the biggest crime families in two countries, and I have no idea if he even likes children. Raffaele holding a newborn baby seems almost too outrageous to imagine.
As they move on, the endless line of guests continues. It’s much later before we’re sitting at the table for dinner. I’ve hardly had time to take a bite of the delicious pasta, pappardelle Bolognese when the clinking of cutlery against the glasses begins, a sign for the bride and groom to kiss.
“I think we’d better give them what they want,” Raffaele murmurs as he leans into my ear, then stands, taking me with him.
Suddenly, I’m bent back over his arm and his mouth swoops down over mine in an all-encompassing kiss that makes my toes curl. I clamp my hands on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his lips move over mine. I have no idea what I’m doing, but when he finally pulls back, I’m completely breathless.
The applause and cheering in the room make me very aware of how much we’re on display. I turn my face into his chest, feeling the heat in my cheeks become burning embers. I keep my head lowered as Raffaele guides me back into my chair.
“Eat up, tesoro. You’ll need your strength for later.” His low, sultry tone hums in my ear, then he proceeds to lift his fork to my lips. I take what he gives me, the aroma of the sauce and the fresh tomato taste helping me realize just how hungry I am. A lone croissant was my meal this morning and with all that’s transpired, I haven’t even thought about food until now.
When the music begins, the emcee calls us to the center of the room, on the makeshift dance floor for the evening, for the first dance. I recognize the tune, and I’m sure it’s not the song I chose. I decided on a traditional song, an Italian song rich in meaning. I chose “Ti Sposerò Perché” by Eros Ramazzotti, but this isn’t it.
Instead, “Thank God” by Kane and Katelyn Brown plays while Raffaele takes me in his arms and begins to dance with me. For such a large man, he dances divinely. As he guides me around the room, his gaze fixed on me, he lifts the corner of his mouth into a sly smile.
“You changed the song,” I say.
“The one you chose wasn’t you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because, you, my dearest Evangeline, believe in hearts and flowers. I can’t promise those things every day, but for one day, this day, I can. This is the perfect song for our first dance,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. I rest my cheek on his chest, his arms tighten around my waist, and we dance the rest of the song in sweet silence.
When our world becomes complicated, and I know that it will, because everything in families does, the memory of our first dance is the moment I’ll cherish forever.