Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
My mom doesn’t answer. It probably would be too much to concede in front of Bea, when my singing is an embarrassment. Instead, she bursts into tears.
“Oh, Dahlia! Are you okay? You look so happy. I missed you so much.”
I pull my mom into a real hug and pat her back like she’s the child and I’m the parent. “I missed you, too, Mom. I’m very happy with Antonio. I love him.”
I sense Antonio’s gaze on me when I say those words and turn to see him speaking to my father. He propels my father toward me, and I endure another awkward hug.
“Nice singing, honey. Beautiful dress.”
Not really the words I need from my father, but it’s a start.
Champagne is uncorked and someone wheels out a giant, tiered cake as if it’s our wedding and not just our first anniversary.
“Cake is being served. You’ll stay for cake, no?” Antonio asks my parents. “Sit down with Dahlia here. You three catch up. Bea, too–the four of you. I need to make the rounds.”
My vision goes blurry for a moment at the thoughtfulness of my husband. The ease with which he moves mountains and orchestrates miracles.
God bless Bea, who starts talking brightly about the band and my dress and the weather.
“I love you.” My father interrupts Bea’s monologue.
We all stare at him in surprise. He’s not the kind of man to express emotion. “I’m glad you’re safe. I never would have forgiven myself if that–” He seems to bite his tongue against whatever name he was going to call Antonio. “–if your husband had been cruel to you. But it seems he loves you. And I guess that’s all that matters in the end.”
There’s a look of defeat around my father that I don’t like to see, but I remind myself that he made his own bed.
I lean over and kiss his cheek. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
One of the servers slides cake and champagne in front of each of us and across the room, Antonio clinks his glass to bring the room to silence.
“I wish to toast my beautiful wife.” He lifts his glass. “Eight years ago, I got a job on a yacht where I kissed the most beautiful girl in the world. It utterly changed the course of my life.” There’s a wryness to his tone, and the room rumbles the same wry sound back. Everyone here knows what happened next because there are no secrets in big Italian families. They know what my father did. The storm of vengeance Antonio became in response.
My mother-in-law glares at my father. She loves me, but she will never forgive him, even if Antonio has embraced the outcome of it all.
“No no.” Antonio holds a hand out. “Let there be no disparagement of my father-in-law. He found me unworthy then, which caused me to make something of myself. And I have.” Antonio spreads his arms wide and the room erupts in cheers. It's true. In the year that we've been married, I learned that Antonio basically runs the Beretta crime family now. The don is mostly retired. His nephew rose up faster through the ranks than any man ever has and took the helm along, generating hundreds of millions of dollars.
The yacht business, it turns out, was key to allowing the Berettas to move their weapons dealing across international waters with total ease. Antonio also made King Yachts profitable again, without any infusion of dirty money.
“And while I thought I was making myself into something powerful so that I could wield my revenge, it turns out, Mr King was right. I needed to make myself worthy of Dahlia. Because she is my everything. And I would do anything to keep her happy.”
Aw, damn. My mascara is going to run. I dab at the corners of my eyes. Antonio finds my gaze and lifts his glass. “So this toast is to you, Principessa. My darling Dahlia. You’re the love of my life.”
“Awww.” Some of the female guests sigh.
Antonio ignores them, going on. “Thank you for being my wife.”
My mom holds a cloth napkin over her mouth to cover a sob.
I stand from the table and walk slowly across the room with my gaze fixed on my husband's handsome face. It's like it's our wedding day–a real wedding day–and I'm walking down the aisle to meet him. To seal our futures together forever.
He sets down his glass when he sees me coming and takes both my hands in his. “Marry me?” he asks. I laugh-sob and nod, the tears escaping my eyes for real now.
“I love you, Mrs. Beretta.”
“I love you.”
The crowd cheers.
“Saluti,” calls Don Beretta and everyone lifts their glass and drinks. Everyone except for me and Antonio because we’re locked in a bone-melting kiss
“Come here.” He takes my hand, and we slip out of the room as the party-goers turn to their cake and champagne.