CHAPTER 7

VICENZO ALDO RUSSO

"What are you feeling?"

I looked at Matteo, who was now standing next to me because he was my best man. We were now at the altar of the cathedral, and we were just waiting for the bride to enter and walk down the aisle.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I answered briefly.

I straightened up while adjusting my black three-piece suit. All the men invited to our wedding, from both my family and my soon-to-be wife's side, were wearing black tuxedos.

There was no flower girl walking, and most importantly, there were no bridesmaids walking either. The ceremony of our wedding would be quick. From the beginning, all such weddings had a rule prohibiting children from being brought, and it had become a custom.

"What do you mean you don't know? You should be happy because you're marrying the person you love," Matteo replied, and he even chuckled a little.

I glared at him. "The real question is, does she love me?"

His lips parted in surprise, and after a while, he laughed at what I said. It didn't last long, though, because I punched him in the side, but it seemed to have no effect on him. He was still laughing and pretended to wipe away a tear.

"You're so grumpy, grandpa. Try to smile, okay? It's your wedding today. You should be happy."

"How can I be happy when this wedding only happened for our safety? If only our father had kept his dick in his pants, we wouldn't be in this situation," I replied irritably.

The news had spread across various mafia families. A clan from 'Ndrangheta and Camorra had united. But they didn't know the real reason why this was happening.

It was all because of our father's actions that this wedding took place. There was something in my chest that felt happy because I was about to marry the person I had long desired, but I felt like this wasn't the right way. Because she didn't love me either...

"Hey, Vicenzo," I snapped back to reality when I heard Matteo's voice and felt his light tap on my shoulder. "The bride is ready. The doors are about to open, so you better fix yourself," he whispered to me.

"Congratulations, man. Enjoy your day," he said with a small smile before falling silent beside me.

Two men opened the cathedral doors, prompting the guests to rise and watch Fiorella walk toward me. The violinist I had hired began playing Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen as Fiorella entered and slowly made her way down the aisle.

She walked at a measured pace, her arm linked with her father's. It was only when she reached the middle of the aisle that I truly got a clear view of her.

The custom-made wedding ball gown I had arranged for her suited her perfectly. She looked like a princess in it. I had rushed the gown's creation and pulled strings with our connections to expedite the process. Even though this was an arranged marriage, I wanted her to have an extravagant experience on her wedding day.

I couldn't see her features fully yet because she's wearing a veil that covering her face. Still, I knew she looked beautiful—everything about her was beautiful.

When she and her father reached me, Antonio let go of her arm abruptly, almost shoving her toward me. The force of his action caused Fiorella to lose balance slightly, but gladly I caught her arm just in time. Fiorella glanced at her father. Her veil was thin, I could clearly see her reaction when she turned to look at her father. Her expression a mix of disbelief and hurt at what he had done.

"Antonio," I addressed him coldly.

He looked at me with a blank expression before his gaze dropped to his daughter, who now stood silently beside me, her head bowed.

"My daughter is yours, Vicenzo. She's your responsibility now," he declared before turning on his heel and heading to his designated seat.

I glared at him before shifting my attention back to the priest, who had started speaking. I lowered my hand to hold Fiorella's gently, guiding her toward the altar where the priest stood ready to commence the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Fiorella Carla Schiavone and Vicenzo Aldo Russo in holy matrimony," the priest began.

He spoke at length, but my bride remained quiet beside me. When I glanced at her, I noticed her tight grip on her wedding bouquet as she silently listened to the priest's words.

The ceremony progressed quickly, and before I knew it, the moment to kiss the bride had arrived.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announced, addressing the two of us.

I extended my hand to help her stand from her seat. I knew how heavy her wedding ball gown was and how it must have been tiring her. Once she was steady, we turned to face each other.

I gently lifted the delicate veil covering her face, revealing her angelic beauty. My heart ached as I noticed her reddened eyes, tears threatening to spill, and her trembling lips, which seemed to suppress a sob.

My wife was beautiful. So unbelievably beautiful.

Thankfully, the makeup artist I had hired had followed my instructions, using only light makeup that perfectly complemented her natural features.

With a soft touch, I cupped her chin, tilting her face up toward mine as I leaned down. Our faces were now mere inches apart, her ocean-blue, tear-filled eyes locking with my hazel eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you," I whispered softly to her.

Upon hearing those words, she instinctively closed her eyes—a clear signal for me to press my lips against hers, which were trembling slightly.

Our lips met, warm and soft, lingering for several seconds as the photographer captured the moment. I could feel the slight quiver of her lips against mine, as well as her delicate hand resting hesitantly on my broad chest. To ease her nerves, I moved my lips gently against hers, coaxing her into a sense of calm.

The sound of applause filled the cathedral as we pulled away from each other. I paid no attention to it, too focused on my wife. Her cheeks were flushed, and she gazed up at me with wide eyes. The tremble in her lips had stopped, my kiss seemingly effective.

She was mine now. She was no longer just Fiorella Carla Schiavone—she's now Fiorella Carla Schiavone-Russo.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

FIORELLA CARLA SCHIAVONE-RUSSO

I don't know why we're still here at the cathedral after my wedding to Vicenzo. Most of all, I had no idea he would be my husband! If I remember correctly, he's the same man I accidentally bumped into when we first arrived at the Don's mansion in Cosa Nostra.

My cheeks turned crimson as I recalled how he kissed me earlier in front of so many people. I could still feel the warmth and softness of his lips moving against mine.

I stood quietly beside Vicenzo as he talked to a man I didn't recognize. It seemed to be about his businesses, especially his casino operations scattered across various countries.

Everyone around us appeared busy, engaged in their own conversations or activities. I, on the other hand, remained at my spot, observing them silently with my husband.

"What if your future husband is old and frail, Fiorella? Would you be okay with that?"

Ornella's playful words resurfaced in my mind, but they couldn't be further from the truth. Vicenzo was the complete opposite. Rocking my body slightly, I cautiously glanced at him. He was still engrossed in his conversation.

From my angle, I could admire the sharp definition of his jawline with faint stubble, his straight nose, and his furrowed brow as he spoke. I just shook my head at my thoughts. I've been drowning myself too much in thoughts of him because of how long I've been gazing at him.

I scanned my surroundings for the person I had been looking for. Why can't I seem to find Ornella?

"Mrs. Russo! Congratulations on your marriage to Vicenzo!"

Startled by the sudden greeting in front of me, I took a step back. My large wedding ball gown got caught underfoot, nearly making me trip, but Vicenzo quickly caught me by the waist and pulled me close to him.

"You startled her," Vicenzo's voice was laced with irritation.

Flustered, I stepped away from him, straightened my dress, and gave a thumbs-up to signal that I was fine.

"I-I'm sorry. I just wanted to congratulate her, Vicenzo," the man stammered nervously.

My chest tightened when I saw Vicenzo's sharp gaze fixed on the man who had greeted me. I Unconsciously placed my hand on his muscular bicep, gently stroking it in an attempt to calm him. To my relief, it seemed to work, as his expression softened slightly when he turned to look at me.

I raised my hand and signed, "I'm okay."

It was only then that I remembered he didn't understand sign language. Quickly, I switched to an "okay" hand sign to make sure he understood.

He didn't reply but turned back to the man, gesturing with his head for him to leave. The man gave us both a final congratulatory nod before walking away, and I offered him a polite smile.

I watched the man as he walked away, and felt Vicenzo's warm hand close over mine. My small hand was completely enveloped in his larger one, his warmth radiating into me. I couldn't bring myself to react, letting him hold my hand as if it were his way of silently reassuring me that he would protect me no matter what. My heart began pounding wildly, almost as if it were about to burst out of my chest. It made it difficult to breathe.

"Are you okay? Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to leave?"

His concerned gaze met mine, and I quickly shook my head, panic flaring within me. His penetrating eyes made me feel as if he could see right through me. Why had I forgotten to get my phone at Ornella? How would I communicate with him like this?

"Just tap me if you want to go home. We'll leave right away, okay?"

I nodded slowly, agreeing to his offer. Our hands remained entwined until I spotted Ornella approaching us. Her wide smile and energetic waves immediately caught my attention. My smile widened because of that, and I raised one hand to wave at her.

"Fiorella! Oh my God! Congratulations—"

Her words were abruptly cut off by the deafening sound of gunfire. Panic erupted within the cathedral as everyone froze or began to duck for cover. Startled, I sank to the ground, clutching Vicenzo's hand tightly as he gripped mine even tighter.

What's happening? Why are there gunshots?

SHANGPU