Matteo tilts his head in the direction of my phone that’s still blaring. “Is it time for you to get ready?”
I gulp and nod.
“Cold feet?”
This time, I shake my head and whisper, “No.”
His hand cups my chin, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Good. Get ready then, so I can officially make you mine.”
I lick my lips, steal another quick kiss, and get up. Thankfully, the alarm on my phone snoozed itself.
The shower is exactly what I need after yet another strenuous morning, but I’m not complaining about the workouts. They might not be easy but they fuel my energy and my self-confidence like nothing else ever has. It’s empowering.
The heat of the water soothes my aching muscles as I wash up. I set the timer early enough so I wouldn’t need to hurry, which allows me to stay under the spray a little longer.
With one towel wrapped around my body and one around my head, I stand in front of the mirror and apply my makeup. Simple, yet classic with a winged eyeliner that I’ll complete with my red lipstick once I’m done. My hair is next, and I style it into soft waves that are held back from my face by a small French side braid.
Then it’s time for my dress. Matteo handed me a credit card a while ago and told me to get whatever I wanted. Since I have everything I need—mostly thanks to Luna—I haven’t particularly felt comfortable spending his money. But I made an exception for today, since I wanted to wear something special, and I’m in love with the dress I found.
It’s a sleeveless maxi dress with several lace layers, a high slit in the front, and a plunging neckline. I feel more beautiful than I felt in the couture wedding gown my father had custom-made for me. It covered almost every inch of my body like he was trying to hide me, the same way he had me hide my true personality. But I don’t want to hide from Matteo or feel confined in any way.
And even though I know it’s only going to be a quick courthouse wedding, I still want to look beautiful for Matteo. He’s doing me a huge favor by marrying me, ultimately putting himself between me and my father. His decision doesn’t come without risk, but I’m hopeful that there won’t be any repercussions, and my dad will accept that I’ll be out from under his thumb. Maybe there’s some kind of deal we can make with him. There has to besomething.
Matteo walks in just as I put on my birdcage necklace. He steps up behind me to help with the clasp. Then his mouth drops to my shoulder, kissing the soft skin there. I close my eyes, shivers running through my entire body at the gentle touch.
“Are you ready?” His hand glides down my exposed arm before it slides into mine.
“Yes.”
I turn around, but Matteo lifts our joined hands and keeps turning me so I do one full spin in front of him.
“I cannot wait to call you my wife.”
Heat creeps up my neck and cheeks because I’ve been thinking about the same thing, and how I cannot wait to be married to him and call him my husband. It’s the first time in my life that thought excites me.
Ideally, I’d have preferred waiting until his engagement to Ally was officially canceled, and some dust had settled over the drama that will undoubtedly come from it, but now that my dad has a wedding planned for me this week, there’s no time to waste. Matteo had to pull some strings, or rather, pay off some people, so we can get married this quickly.
Matteo puts one hand in his pocket and gets out a rectangular black box. “Early wedding present.”
I lift my hand on autopilot, the box heavy as Matteo places it in my palm.
Swallowing, I peer up at him. “You didn’t have to get me anything. But thank you.”
One side of his mouth ticks up. “Trust me, you’re going to love this.”
I huff a nervous laugh and open the lid, my gaze immediately flying up to his.
He’s already biting his lip—knowing exactly how much I love it when he does it—and then his lips grow into a beautiful, full smile. I see it so rarely, I’m stunned and simply stare at him like an idiot.
“Do you like it, passerotta? Take it out.” His voice is closer than it was before.
I blink, and he’s right there, in my personal bubble, brushing his knuckles across my cheek, which snaps me out of my trance.
I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tightly. His distinctive smell distracts me as I bury my face in his neck, trying not to get any of my makeup on his suit. “Thank you. I love it.”
“I wanted you to have your own, and I don’t ever want you to leave the house without it.” His hands wrap around my middle, and he squeezes, securing me there until I move back.
The package is still in my hand, so I lift the lid once more and stare at the contents, taking a closer look this time. The smooth material of the knife is a matte black, similar to the ones he showed me while we practiced different holds. But this one is special, with an engraved bird on the handle. I run my thumb over it, smoothing it back and forth over the slightly uneven surface.