God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

With my lips parted, I watch as bag after bag of clothes is carried into the foyer.

Holy crap.

“Did we really order so much?” I ask.

“I added a couple of items I thought you might like,” Mrs. Accardi says.

Caro Dio.

“Should I take the clothes to your suite, Miss di Bella?” Martha asks. “Or do you want me to wash them first?”

“They’ve already been dry cleaned,” Savannah, Mrs. Accardi’s personal shopper, informs us. “My team can pack the clothes in your closet. Just show them the way.”

Martha leads the team up the stairs, and all I can do is shake my head.

“Damiano is going to lose his shit when he sees how many clothes I got,” I whisper under my breath.

“No, he won’t,” Aunt Aida says. “As his fiancée, you always have to look your best.”

Still.

My thoughts turn to Damiano, who hasn’t been home in over a week.

“I’ll be right back,” I say before I head up the stairs.

Walking into my bedroom, I hear the staff work in the closet. I grab my phone and quickly leave so I don’t interrupt them.

I head to Damiano’s suite, and when I shut the door behind me, I type out a text.

Thank you for the clothes. I hope you’re getting some rest.

I hesitate before I press send.

I watch as it shows he’s read the text, then realizing he might not have my number, I quickly send another message.

It’s Gabriella.

He reads it, but it shows he goes offline again.

I worry my bottom lip before I decide to send a final text.

Keep safe.

He comes online, and when it shows he’s typing, the corners of my mouth lift.

When the message appears on my phone, my smile grows.

Dress warm.

My fingers fly over the keypad.

I will. I miss you.

His reply comes quickly.

Miss you too.

I stare at the messages for a while before I let out a sigh. Wishing he was here, I glance around his bedroom.

I open the door, and heading back downstairs, I find Aunt Aida, Mrs. Accardi, and Savannah in the sitting room.

“There you are,” Mrs. Accardi says when her eyes land on me. “Savannah brought photos of wedding dresses.”

“Wedding dresses?” I ask as I take a seat.

“Have you forgotten you’re getting married?” Aunt Aida asks with a playful tone.

“No…ahh…I didn’t.”

Savannah hands me a heavy book and a pad of sticky notes. “Just mark the ones you like, and I’ll bring them next week for you to try on.”

I open the book, and when I see the first wedding dress that’s a cloud of white chiffon, I’m hit with a wave of emotion.

I’m planning my wedding.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

To Damiano.

I page through all the photos before I start over, picking my favorites.

When I look at a photo of an off-the-shoulder, satin dress with long sleeves, I pause for a while. There’s a slit that comes up very high, and a train of satin makes the model look like royalty.

“Which one are you staring at?” Mrs. Accardi asks.

Savannah gets up and peeks over my shoulder. “Oh, that one will look stunning on you. It’s our winter wonderland theme.”

Mrs. Accardi climbs to her, and I turn the book so she can see the dress.

“It’s gorgeous, cara.” Her eyes jump from the photo to me. “Do you want this one?”

I begin to nod before I’ve even made up my mind, then let out a chuckle. “Yes. I love the design.”

“It’s an off-the-shoulder satin dress with a high slit, Aunt Aida,” I say so she’ll know what it looks like.

“You’re going to show some leg on your big day?” she teases me.

“Definitely,” I laugh before I stare at the dress again.

Yes, this is the one. I’ll look like a queen.

I hand the book back to Savannah and say, “Only bring this dress. I don’t think I’ll change my mind.”

“Okay. Let’s take your measurements quickly.”

I stand up, and while Savannah moves around me, Mrs. Accardi says, “I’ve arranged for a wedding planner. He’ll be here tomorrow at ten.”

I give her a soft smile. “Thank you. I wouldn’t know where to start to plan the wedding.” Remembering what Damiano said, I mention, “Damiano is only inviting fourteen people.”

“Angelo and Torri. Franco and Samantha. Renzo and Skylar,” Aunt Aida names some of the guests. “Dario and whoever he’s dating. That makes eight.”

“Me and you. Carlo,” Mrs. Accardi adds. “Who are the other three?”

“Gerardo, Emilio, and Vito,” Aunt Aida answers. “Unless they won’t attend, and it’s your parents and brother?”

“No!” The word explodes from me. Clearing my throat, I say with finality in my tone, “They won’t be at my wedding.”

The silence following my words is tense, then Aunt Aida murmurs, “Whatever you want, cara.”

“I’m happy with the fourteen guests you’ve mentioned,” I say, and when Savannah’s done taking my measurements, I give her a thankful smile.

“I’ll have the dress adjusted.” She collects her belongings. “Thank you, ladies. I’ll call to make an appointment for next week. I hope you all have a lovely day further.”

“Drive safely,” I murmur.

“Thank you for coming to us. Let me walk you out,” Mrs. Accardi offers.

I sit down again and glance at Aunt Aida. To ease more of the tension left behind by my strong reaction, I ask, “What are you going to wear to the wedding?”

“I have no idea. I have a closet full of gowns that I’ve never worn. I’m sure we can find something.”

“Oh.” My eyebrows lift. “Should we go look now?”

“Why not.” She chuckles as she holds her hand out to me.

I get up and hook her arm through mine.

Walking to the elevator, I say, “I really love it here at the mansion.”

“I’m happy to hear that, cara. This is your home now.”

I press the button, and when the doors slide open, we step inside. My eyes land on Mrs. Accardi, and I quickly stop the doors from closing.

“Why are we going up?” she asks as she joins us.

“To decide what Aunt Aida’s going to wear to the wedding,” I bring her up to speed.

“Caro Dio,” Mrs. Accardi gasps. “I haven’t even thought about what we would wear.” She lets out a sigh. “If we don’t find anything in our closets, Savannah will just have to arrange gowns for us.”

The elevator stops on the second floor, and I follow them to Aunt Aida’s suite. When I walk into the room, I curiously glance around, seeing as it’s my first time in her private space.

The décor is soft pink and creams with paintings of cherry blossoms on the walls.

“Gosh,” I whisper. “Your room is pretty.”

“I’ve always loved cherry blossoms.” A sad expression tightens her features. “Before I lost my sight, I visited Japan during springtime. I’ll never forget how beautiful all the cherry blossom trees looked.”

My heart.

Taking her hand, I give her a squeeze before I tug her toward her walk-in closet. “Let’s find you a gorgeous dress.”

“Here are the gowns,” Mrs. Accardi says.

She starts to look through them, and when I see a pink, floral-print, A-line gown, I gasp, “That one.”

Moving forward, I grab the hanger and pull it out of the closet. “Wow. This dress is stunning.” Turning to Aunt Aida, I rush closer and take hold of her hand. I brush her fingers over the fabric as I say, “It’s pale pink silk with floral-print lace.” When her fingers slide over the sleeves, I say, “They’re three-quarters.”

“Gabriella’s right,” Mrs. Accardi agrees. “You’ll look so beautiful in this dress.”

A soft smile tugs at Aunt Aida’s mouth. “Then I’ll wear it.”

On impulse I hug Aunt Aida, then feeling awkward, I quickly pull back. “Sorry. I got overexcited.”

She lets out a chuckle. “You can hug me anytime. I don’t mind.”

“Are you going to put on the dress so we can see if it still fits?” Mrs. Accardi asks.

“Yes.”

I wait in the walk-in closet while Mrs. Accardi takes Aunt Aida to the bathroom. A few minutes pass before the door opens, and then I stare in wonder at my future mother-in-law.

“How does it look?” Aunt Aida asks.

“So pretty,” I murmur, the awe clear in my voice. “You’re breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Thank you, cara,” she says, a pleased smile on her face. “Okay, let’s get me out of the dress so we can find you something to wear, Greta.”

When they walk back into the bathroom, I press my hand to my happy heart.

Even though I miss Damiano, I’m enjoying every second I get to spend with Aunt Aida and Mrs. Accardi.

It feels like I’m gaining two mothers who actually care about me.