Page 171 of Shades of Loyalty
As much as I love Katya’s makeup skills, I don’t want to find out what she does in case I ruin it before I even say the yes word.
I nod, taking a deep breath before she leads me towards the entrance, my feet barely being able to carry me.
I swear I almost fall over the dress at the stairs, but I am able to keep my composure and just continue walking like I’m expected to.
I’m going to be honest.
The second I put my foot into the church, walking down the aisle and staring right at Daniel waiting for me, I couldn’t stop my tears.
Katya is going to kill me, but I couldn’t care less.
My eyes stay focused on him, our eyes locking and searching for the words we can’t say yet.
The music gets pushed to the background, my mind shutting everything away except from him.
All I can see is him.
I don’t pay attention to my mom, Andrew, Victoria, and Mary, who’s probably bouncing in her seat at the sight of my dress—nobody else matters.
It’s just him and me.
When my mother lets go of me and goes to her seat in the first row, I finally look at it. It’s a subtle glance, and yet, there’s so much behind it.
My mother is here. Mary is right next to her. Enzo, Katya and Yuri are here. Andrew and Victoria are watching, as well.
But there are two empty seats.
And when I look back at Daniel, spotting his eyes wander towards the seats as well, I know who they’re for.
No one says it. They don’t have to.
We both know who should’ve been sitting there.
Vittorio and Lilia Caruso.
Daniel doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t cry. But his eyes—God, his eyes—carry that storm he never lets loose. The storm I’ve seen since I’ve met him.
And maybe today, I’ll carry a piece of it for him. Just for a while.
He looks back at me then.
Just a blink. But it’s enough. I feel the ache melt into something warm again. His chest rises and falls, slow, controlled, like he’s reminding himself this is still real. That I’m really walking toward him. That even in the absence of the people we lost, love is still here. Still alive. Still worth everything.
I wipe a tear from my cheek, ruining Katya’s hard work even more, but I smile anyway.
Because in just a few steps, I’ll be his wife.
And no one—living or dead—can take that from us.
The second I walk up at him, standing in front of him, he takes my hands in his, looking at the dress.
“I knew this dress looks good, but you make it look even more amazing than I could’ve imagined.”
I smile at him, feeling the really strong urge to touch him, kiss him—but I can’t. Not yet.
“You love the dress?”
“I love it. I love you. But I fear…”, he steps just a step closer, whispering into my ear: “I’m gonna tear it off of you the second we’re alone, pretty.”
