She flinched, but it didn’t slow her down, her cheeks now as red as my hair, her eyes shining with anger. “And that’s the family you want to tie yourself to?”
“You know what, Beth? Go. Fuck. Yourself.” With that parting shot, I gathered up my skirt and stormed back into the church. Pausing outside the bridal suite, I took a calming breath as I listened to the most important women in my life laugh and carry on.
I must’ve put on a convincing smile because no one made a comment when I rejoined the group. As they continued to chat, I checked my face and found no proof of the Beth run-in. Despite feeling relief knowing she was behind the PI, having to actually talk to her on my wedding day was a real bitch.
Mom sat on the stiff couch in the bridal suite watching the rest of us touch up our hair and makeup from the trip over. “I still can’t believe my baby’s getting married.”
“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m getting married. The whole ‘the right person will make you do crazy things’ is real. Hell—”
“Sasha,” Mom hissed.
A portrait of Mother Mary holding a baby Jesus hung above my mom in the reflection of the mirror I was using. “Sorry. Heck,” I apologized to the virgin mother, and Mom nodded. “Having kids isn’t even freaking me out because I know he’ll be my partner. Isn’t that crazy?”
Mom’s eyes shined with tears. She sniffed and gave me a small smile. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
“I have an idea,” I teased.
Tricia, the wedding planner, popped her head into the room and said, “Time to line up.”
The room broke into a flurry of excitement as my friends left the room, leaving me alone with my mom.
“You really look beautiful, Sasha.” Mom handed me the beautiful bouquet made of white roses and calla lilies.
Behind my eyes started to burn. As much as I had grown in love and acceptance for myself, a part of me would always be ecstatic to receive her praise. “Thanks, Mom.”
She took one more long look at me, giving me a watery smile as she held out her hand. “Let’s get you married.” I held on to her tightly as she led me through the hallways to the front of the cathedral. “This is it!” She squeezed my hand, shaking my arm out. An escort ushered her inside, and the enormous doors shut. The muffled sound of a string quartet playing something I didn't recognize kicked my nerves into overdrive.
I was getting married.
Dad looped his arm around mine, patting my hand. “You ready?”
“I think so?”
He chuckled. “It’ll all be over soon. Try to enjoy the day as much as you can. Or at least pretend to because I saw some of what your mom has planned, and wow.”
“Way to make me feel better.”
The doors swung open, and Adriana started the procession. “Here we go,” my dad murmured in the way dads can’t help but narrate what’s happening.
As each person left our little pack, I grew more anxious. My stomach flipped until I wasn’t sure if I would throw up or faint.
Dante took the hand of my second cousin’s kid, Libby, and started their adorable walk down the aisle. When the doors shut behind them, we took our position. Dad was the only thing keeping me upright. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
I shook my head so hard that the veil brushed against my cheek. “I just need to see Luca.”
Dad smiled, every crease in his face deepening. “Then let’s get you to the altar.”
The music changed to an elegant string version of “Can’t help falling in love,” and the doors flung open. I paused long enough for Tricia to give me an impatient head nod. That first step was the hardest step I’d ever taken. It wasn’t until I looked to the front of the church and locked eyes with Luca that I was able to get my ass moving.
The intense love in his eyes made everyone else melt away, and Dad had to keep me from sprinting up the aisle. I could withstand the circus our mothers planned if he kept looking at me that way.
We reached the front of the cathedral, and as Luca took my hand, the doors flew open, and a swarm of police spilled inside, shouting for everyone to sit down. Luca used his body to block me from sight. I immediately recognized Detective Bennington at the front of the pack.
“Luca Moretti?” Bennington’s voice echoed off the tall ceilings, carrying over the settling guests.
Luca squeezed my hand as he nodded at an approaching Bennington.
“We have a warrant for your arrest in the murder of Zoe Chronis and Torquato Moretti.” Men dressed in swat gear surrounded Bennington in a strange juxtaposition to the formal wear of everyone surrounding them.