Chapter 32: You may kiss the bride.

Lorenzo steps forward and takes Olivia’s arm.

I follow a few steps behind them with my aunt, watching as Olivia takes one last look around her room.

My chest tightens. Just before we leave, I reach for her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"If you change your mind, Oli, I swear to God, I’ll get you out of here."

She turns and just looks at me, thn she gives me a small, sad smile.

"I know you would but I wouldn’t ask that of you Rissa."

I squeeze her hand again before letting go.

Then we walk out together.

—————

Lysander’s POV

I stand at the altar, waiting for my bride. I don’t understand why the mafia insists on having weddings in a church. We aren’t exactly the most religious people.

At least, I’m not.

If there is a God sitting somewhere up there, watching everything I’ve done,with all the people I’ve killed.....then I already know where I’m going.

Hell.

Straight down there,No second chances, no heavenly gates opening for me. Just fire and whatever punishment waits for men like me.

I’ve killed men, I’ve ordered deaths, I’ve destroyed families, I’ve done things I regret and things I know I’ll never be proud of.

I’m no righteous man, and I don’t claim to be.

I can’t be. A man like me doesn’t get to pretend he’s innocent just because he’s standing in a church wearing a really fucking expensive suit.

The thought almost makes me laugh.

Then the music changes, the song playing through the church shifts into something slower and my attention moves toward the entrance.

The large doors open and there she is.

My bride.

Olivia walks in with the Don’s hand resting around her arm. Her face is covered by a veil, so I can’t tell what she’s feeling.

Nervous? Scared? Regretful?

I have no idea.

She’s walking slowly, surrounded by the silence of hundreds of people watching her.

My eyes remain on her, until they don’t.

My attention snags on the person walking a few steps behind her.

My little riot.

Of course.

Of fucking course she’s wearing black.

Everyone else seems to have understood the assignment of attending a wedding.

Not Nerissa though, she had to wear black.

I almost smile.

Then I actually look at her and the smile disappears.

She looks beautiful, more beautiful than she has any right to look today.

The black dress fits her perfectly, drawing attention to every curve without looking like she tried too hard. Her dark hair falls around her shoulders, and there’s something about the way she carries herself that makes her stand out even among all these people.

She looks...

Fuck.

I mentally reprimand myself, my wife is in front of me. I don’t have to go looking at someone else, I shouldn’t be looking at someone else. So I painfully drag my eyes back to the woman walking toward me.

Olivia.....My bride.

That’s where my attention belongs, that’s where it stays.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Thr closer she gets, the more I notice the slight tremble in her steps.

She’s nervous and I can’t blame her. Neither of us has exactly been given a choice in this.

When they finally reach me, the Don stops.

His eyes meet mine, there’s a clear warning buried in them.

I understand.

He takes Olivia’s hand and places it in mine.

Her fingers are cold and trembling slightly.

I close my hand around hers, steadying it.

She looks up at me through the veil, I can’t see her expression clearly but I can feel how tense she is.

I lean slightly closer.

"You’re safe," I murmur quietly enough for only her to hear.

The priest’s voice fills the church as I stand beside Olivia, her hand resting in mine as we listen to words that have been repeated at mafia weddings for generations.

Commitment, loyalty, faamily....Until death.

That last part almost makes me smile cause In our world, it’s not exactly a metaphor.

The priest asks us to repeat our vows.

I go first.

"I, Lysander Sanchez, take you, Olivia Luciano, to be my wife. I promise to stand beside you, protect you, and remain faithful to this union for as long as we both shall live."

The words feel heavier than they should, my because of her because I know exactly what they mean.

There is no walking away from this.

Olivia repeats hers afterward. Her voice is soft, but steady enough.

Then come the rings.

I take hers from the small velvet box and slide it onto her finger.

Her hand trembles slightly as she does the same to me.

The gold settles against my finger.

A simple ring but a permanent decision.

The priest continues with the final blessings, and I barely listen.

My attention drifts across the church.

Luciano men fill one side, my men occupy the other.

Everyone is watching.

This isn’t simply a wedding.....It’s a declaration of an end to the war. The Sanchez and Luciano families have agreed to peace.

At least for now.

The priest finally closes the book, he looks between us.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

There is a pause.

Then...

"You may kiss the bride."

I turn toward Olivia, her entire body seems to tense.

Her face is still hidden beneath the veil as I reach for it. The moment my fingers touch the edge, she shifts backward slightly in fear.

My hand settles firmly around her waist, keeping her in place.

She freezes and for a brief second, I feel something dangerously close to pity.

She’s frightened.

I can see that much now but pity is all it is.

This marriage isn’t about feelings, It’s about survival about our families, It’s about the people depending on me to keep the war from starting again.

So I lift her veil.

Her face appears beneath it, her eyes meet mine. I pull her back toward me and press a brief kiss against her lips.

Nothing more....Just a peck.

Then I pull away.

A satisfied smile slowly spreads across my face when I see the disgust written all over hers.