Emma looked breathtaking in her wedding dress. It accentuated her narrow waist and elegant bone structure, something I’d never paid attention to with a woman before. Her brown hair hung in shiny curls down her shoulders and was adorned with pearls.
She held her head high as she moved down the aisle in her wheelchair by Danilo’s side. The way she moved it along, she seemed to float toward me. Beside the first row of seats, she stopped and arrested the brakes. She exchanged a look with Danilo, who gave a curt nod, then held out his arm to her. She reached down to her heels and took them off. She put them on the footboards, then put her bare feet on the floor. She pushed herself into a standing position, and a hush fell over the church. Even though Emma had hinted at it in our last phone call, it still came as a surprise to see Emma rise to her feet. She held her head high, a smile on her face, but I caught the hint of strain in her eyes. This wasn’t easy for her, but she took Danilo’s arm, then slowly put a leg forward.
It was the first time I saw her standing and in her dress. The effect was spectacular. I held out my arm for her to hold on to, and her fingers dug into my forearm. I covered her hand with mine to steady her and hold as much of her weight as possible. Luckily, she was petite, so I had no trouble supporting her. She gave me a small, grateful smile. It was admirable how she fought for what she wanted. Together, we faced the priest. Her chest heaved from the obvious effort of standing. It drew my attention to the enticing neckline of her wedding dress.
Until now, I hadn’t paid much attention to Emma’s body. But I allowed my gaze to discover her now. She was elegant, with high cheekbones and an almost fairy-like aura.
Danilo and Renato positioned chairs behind us, and I helped Emma sit before I took my seat beside her. Emma kept her eyes on the priest throughout the ceremony, but I kept glancing her way.
The priest seemed to talk forever, but eventually, it was time for the vows.
I held out my arm to her once more and helped her pull herself to her feet. Her fingers shook as we exchanged the rings, making me feel very protective of my young wife.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I put one hand on her waist, steadying her even more. I could tell that she was reaching the end of her strength. She tilted her head up with an uncertain smile. I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were pliable, and she yielded to my pressure. The delicate blush on her cheeks awakened a primal part in me that I had restrained so far.
“I need to sit down,” Emma whispered apologetically.
I helped her into the wheelchair that Danilo had pushed to the front. She arranged her dress, then peered up at me with a hesitant smile. The music that Emma’s mother had picked for our walk out of church began. I held out my hand, and Emma put her hand in it, then I gave a nod, and she began moving. I matched my pace to hers. I could see that some people were still surprised that this wedding had happened. When we reached the outside, a gentle rain was falling. I quickly opened the umbrella that my father handed me and held it over Emma.
“We postponed the congratulations to later in the hotel!” Dad announced.
For all I cared, we could have canceled them altogether. This was usually the most insincere part of every wedding, except for the actual vows of love, perhaps.
I held the door open to the limousine.
“Can you help me? It’s harder to get into the car with this dress.”
My mother and I helped Emma into the back seat, and I joined her.
Silence settled between us once the doors were closed, and we were on our way. I didn’t mind silence, but I knew many people did. I glanced at Emma beside me. She was breathtaking. Her hair shone like silk, and her skin was immaculate. My gaze moved lower to the enticing neckline of her dress and the valley between her breasts, then I looked back up. Emma regarded me with a shy smile. “We’re married.” She let out a nervous laugh. She reminded me of her much younger age at that moment. Only eighteen. Yet she had appeared more grown-up in many of our previous encounters, so it had been easy to forget our age difference.
“Indeed.” I cleared my throat. It was obvious Emma was overwhelmed, and we still had a long day ahead of us. “You don’t have to worry. Our mothers planned every moment of today. We just have to follow their cues. And the guests won’t care about mishaps as long as there’s food and alcohol.”
I reached under my jacket for the flask Renato had handed me before the ceremony and unscrewed it. “Do you mind?”
She quickly shook her head and watched as I took a couple of gulps. It was my favorite whisky. Lagavulin. Strong enough to burn your throat but delicious.
I held out the flask to Emma. “Liquid courage?”
Emma hesitated, then took the flask from me. She took a sip and immediately started coughing, her face turning red. She handed the flask back to me. “What is it?” she pressed out.
“Whisky.” I took another gulp.
“That tastes like methylated spirit.”
“Trust me, it doesn’t. I have firsthand knowledge from people I interrogated.”
Emma’s eyes widened, then she nodded. Danilo’s treatment of enemies wasn’t for the fainthearted either, but I wasn’t sure how much of his business Emma knew about. “Why do you need it? Are you nervous?”
Was I nervous? This was a monumental step in my life. I was now bound to a woman. Some men didn’t change their actions, but I respected the holy bond of marriage. “No,” I said simply because it was the truth. What came next was the standard social exchange of pleasantries that I detested. What came after was something I’d figure out then. “Are you?”
She bit her lip and cast her eyes down to the ring around her finger. “I have been nervous since I found out I was promised to you.”
I frowned. Her reaction to our bond had been lackluster from the start. Some people wondered why, but I had never really expected Emma to be overjoyed. “Why?”
She looked out the window, obviously unsure how much to share.
“You won’t offend me. Even your brother hasn’t succeeded in a while.”
Emma let out a choked laugh and turned back to me. “I don’t understand why you two detest each other so much. You aren’t so different.”
“I reckon that’s the problem,” I said with a shrug. Though, I didn’t really think that Danilo and I were really very much alike. We were alphas. That was the only thing we had in common. “But you’re avoiding my question. Why were you nervous when you found out we were promised? Would you have preferred to marry someone else or not at all?”
“No, neither,” she said and blushed. “You’re older and more experienced in many regards, so that’s definitely a factor.”
I could tell that wasn’t the entire truth. “That’s not a disadvantage,” I said in a low voice. I could have said more, but I didn’t feel we were quite there yet. I wasn’t sure how to handle her.
She looked down at her hands with a thoughtful expression. “You’re very aloof. I worry it’ll be hard to break through your shell.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted her to succeed. She wished for this deep sort of connection, and whenever I saw my parents share a moment, I, too, wished for it, but this level of intimacy brought risks. “We’re there.”
Emma glanced my way as if hoping for an answer, but I didn’t want to give her false hope.
EMMA
My eyes took in the ivy-covered front of the Van Delden Mansion we’d picked as our wedding venue. It was the best hotel in Minneapolis. Samuel had merely agreed but not really been involved in the decision-making. My heart filled with joy at the sight of the facade made of pink Sioux quartzite. It was a place I expected to find in the French countryside or in England, but not in downtown Minneapolis. I’d fallen in love with the venue the moment Ines had sent me photos of it, and I’d convinced my mother to agree even though the ballroom had a limit of 175 guests.
The driver took my wheelchair out of the trunk, and Samuel helped me sit down. I tilted my head up, taking in the impressive building. The rain had stopped, which was fortunate, considering we wanted to take wedding photos in the garden. Samuel pushed me down the pathway that led to the gardens. Our photographer waited for us beside a gazebo. My mother and Ines joined us soon after.
“You can access the gazebo with your wheelchair,” the photographer said.
Mom stepped forward with a tight smile. “I think Emma should stand for the photos. We want wedding photos without the wheelchair.”
We? We had never discussed that.
Ines glanced from my mother to me and Samuel. I flushed, feeling on the spot.
Samuel moved to my side. “Is that what you want?”
My heart swelled. I ignored Mom’s pinched expression. This was my day. “I would like a mix of both. Me in my wheelchair and me standing beside you.”
“How about we take a few photos in your wheelchair in the gazebo, and then we’ll try a few standing photos on the stairs?” the photographer suggested.
I could tell my mother was offended that we didn’t follow her lead.
We moved into the gazebo, then Samuel and I gazed toward the photographer, hoping for directions.
“How about you kneel in front of Emma and take her hands?” Ines suggested.
Samuel got down on his knees. Luckily, the inside of the gazebo was dry so he wouldn’t ruin his suit. He took my hands. His felt warm while mine were cold and a little stiff.
“Give us some emotions,” the photographer encouraged. “Look deeply into each other’s eyes as if you’re sharing a secret.”
I met Samuel’s gaze, feeling awkward. How were we supposed to convey emotions that weren’t there? I was attracted to Samuel and maybe even had a little crush on him, but I didn’t love him. And he definitely didn’t have any feelings for me. This was an arranged marriage, not blissful love. Samuel’s features softened in a smile, but it was still a very restrained expression, and my own face felt very tense.
“More emotions,” the photographer said as she took several photos.
Samuel glared. “Do your job. This isn’t helping.”
She snapped her lips shut and continued taking photos.
Samuel looked down at my hands, which were still in his. “Your hands are icy. We should hurry to get you inside.” He looked up with concern in his eyes.
“It’s not very cold. It’s summer.” It was a cool day for May, but my cold hands were from nerves, not because I was freezing.
“That’s it!” the photographer said, and the click-click of more photos being taken sounded. “That’s a wrap on this set.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow and pushed to his feet, releasing my hands in the process. My eyes registered Danilo. He stood a few steps to the side, watching us. Sofia wasn’t with him. They had married recently, but it was pretty obvious they’d had a rough start. Seeing them together today, I got the impression that things between them were improving. Danilo didn’t share these things with me, and I wasn’t close enough to Sofia yet to ask her about it. Not to mention that I’d feel awkward doing so as Danilo’s sister.
Danilo gave me a tight smile before his hard gaze settled on Samuel, who returned it with an unimpressed expression.
“The stairs next!” the photographer said, moving ahead.
Samuel pushed me toward the base of the stairs. I arrested the brakes and pushed myself into a standing position. I realized I was still in my heels and couldn’t keep my balance on them. Danilo stepped forward as if to catch me, but Samuel grabbed my arm before he could and steadied me with a hand on my waist.
“I need to get out of my heels,” I explained, embarrassed.
I sank down and quickly slipped off my heels before I stood again. Samuel helped me reach one of the upper stairs and positioned himself beside me. Ines fanned out my wedding dress so it cascaded down the steps. I was a bit nervous standing on the stairs as it allowed less room for stumbling. Samuel gripped my hands. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his declaration. “That’s very romantic of you,” I teased.
Samuel chuckled. “I’m going to be honest. Being romantic isn’t my forte. At all.”
“You’re the ice prince.”
He scoffed. “That name has followed me for years.”
“It fits,” I said, my eyes tracing his blond hair, cold blue eyes, and cool expression. If I had to pick someone to play a Nordic god, I would choose him. “You look and act like one. I thought you liked it. From what I hear, girls do.” I hadn’t wanted to bring up other girls but couldn’t help the little jab. I knew the stories about his conquests.
“They like the illusion. They like thinking they could melt my cold heart. Because it would make them special.” He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t you want someone to melt your cold heart?” I asked in a mere whisper, not sure why I chose to pick this topic on our wedding day. It was bound to end in disaster.
Samuel slanted a look at the photographer, who lowered her camera and motioned for us to move on to the fountain. “No. I don’t.”
“Oh.”
“We’re running out of time!” Mom pointed at the gold watch around her wrist.
Samuel sighed and picked me up without warning. He carried me down the stairs and toward the fountain. Being pressed up to his body like that sent a nervous shiver down my back, and my cheeks flushed.
“Just like this!” The photographer lifted her camera. “Don’t move.”
She took several photos of me in Samuel’s arms. “I think this is enough,” Samuel said, putting me down in my wheelchair. He didn’t wait for the photographer to agree. Instead, he pushed me up the ramp that led into the ballroom of the hotel that we’d rented for the occasion. The guests had gathered at their respective tables and were busy chatting and drinking champagne or wine. Our photo session had taken a while.
Immediately, everyone’s eyes moved to us. I was used to being stared at and didn’t even mind today. Most faces were friendly, and I simply ignored the occasional grudging expression. I wanted to enjoy today. When Samuel and I arrived at our table, he noticed the origami cranes hanging from the ceiling above the center of every round table.
“I’ve never seen wedding decor like this.”
Nerves filled my belly. His thoughtful expression didn’t reveal if he liked them or not.
“Emma insisted on having them. She even folded them herself! As if we didn’t have the necessary funds to buy decorations,” Mom said in a scandalous whisper.
I stifled my annoyance. We’d still spent a five-figure sum on decorations from flowers to balloons.
Samuel glanced at me. “You did these?”
“Yes, I’ve been doing origami for six years.”
He looked impressed. Hope bloomed in me. “I like it.”
“The cranes symbolize happiness and eternal youth. They are luck bringers.”
“Do you think we need additional luck for our wedding?” he asked, mildly amused.
I shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”
Mom pursed her lips, then her eyes registered on a server who stood off to the side with a tray. “Why’s she taking a break?” She went off to give someone else a piece of her mind.
Danilo and Sofia joined us at that moment. Danilo watched Mother’s departure with a frown, then raised his eyebrow. “What happened?”
“She was displeased that Samuel didn’t hate my origami decoration like she does.”
Danilo shook his head with a look of displeasure. Sofia stood beside him, but they didn’t touch. Not that Samuel and I were holding hands or the like.
“I would have hidden my dislike in front of your mother even if I’d felt it. A husband should have his wife’s back,” Samuel said simply.
I narrowed my eyes. “So you lied?”
“No, I really like them. But I would lie to others to have your back.”
I bit my lip, secretly pleased. “As long as you don’t lie to me.”
“I can be very honest.”
Danilo made a face as if he doubted that. I gave him a curious look, but he simply smiled tightly.
“I think they are spectacular and gorgeous. If I’d known you could do these, I would have asked you to craft them for our wedding.” Sofia pursed her lips. “Though, they probably take forever to fold, right?”
“It took me a while, but I would have done it for you and Danilo.”
I positioned my wheelchair closer to the table as Mom signaled for us to sit down for dinner. Sofia sat beside me, and Danilo was beside her. I insisted she sat beside me because I didn’t want to bear Mom’s admonishments all evening. Samuel sat down on my other side, and soon, his parents and my mother took the remaining seats.
Samuel’s father rose to his feet when all the guests found their seats. As Underboss and the father of the groom, he’d give a little speech first before Samuel would open the dinner.
The attention shifted to Samuel and me as he mentioned how happy he and Ines were about our bond.
“We can’t wait to become grandparents and hopefully have a grandson who will continue the Mione legacy.”
Samuel’s lips tightened, and I noticed how Ines nudged her husband under the table and sent him a warning look. His confused expression told me he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.
To be honest, it was a pretty standard thing to say for a patriarch at his son’s wedding. I’ve heard a similar phrase at countless weddings. But with the continued rumors about my infertility, a comment like that only added fuel to the gossip fire.
At many tables, people exchanged looks or even whispered, but Samuel shoved to his feet and clanged his knife against his wineglass with a bit more force than necessary.
“Let the feast begin. I’m sure we all need a drink and good food.”
He sank back down and gave me a tight smile.
When the service crew streamed in with the appetizers—deviled quail eggs with caviar and more champagne to go with it—Sofia leaned over to me. “I’m sorry for what Dad said. The men in my family can be horribly insensitive.”
I gave her a small smile. “The men in my family as well.”
She followed my gaze toward Danilo, who regarded the tiny appetizer with disdain. “I hope the portion sizes increase.”
Mom gave him an indignant look. “We have six more courses. I didn’t raise you to be a barbarian.”
I stifled my laughter.
Samuel wasn’t as restrained. He let out a dry chuckle. “I guess you haven’t seen Danilo’s barbaric side very often then.”
“No talk about business at the table,” Ines said firmly. “This isn’t wedding talk.”
Sofia and I exchanged a look, both trying to stop ourselves from grinning. I had to admit I was sad that Sofia wouldn’t be in Minneapolis. She and I would have bonded even more over time.
I worried about making friends, especially as good and loyal as my bestie Giorgia. I searched the ballroom until my eyes settled on her beside her brother. She met my gaze and raised her eyebrows comically as she took a delicate bite of the tiny egg.
God, I’d miss her.
