Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Before grief can weigh me down, music begins to play. Aemelia’s brother, CJ, appears in the doorway. And beside him, our bride.
She’s the picture of elegance, enveloped in cream lace that clings to her curves before spilling out into a fluted skirt. Tight sleeves drape over her hands, modest yet breathtaking. Over her head rests her mother’s veil, a final tether to the past she’s leaving behind. As the congregation turns to watch, she slides her hand into her brother's arm, her posture regal, her steps measured.
The world slows, each step she takes carving away the years of violence and blood that led us here. The weight of my past, the sins I have worn like armor, seem to splinter as she draws closer. These hands—stained with blood, calloused and unworthy—have taken life without hesitation, but today, they will only hold hers, gentle and reverent. I have known power and commanded fear, but today, for the first time, I’m undone by something greater.
Her.
Nothing has ever unraveled me like the soft, steady way she looks at me now. Like I’m worthy of her love. She was never meant to be mine—never meant to belong to any of us—but fate, who’s been as cruel as she’s been generous, wove our paths together in the kind of story that shouldn’t have a happy ending. And yet, here she is, walking toward us, the only men who have ever been willing to burn the world to keep her safe. My chest tightens, my heart a raw, aching thing in my ribs. I never believed I’d find love and still don’t fully believe I deserve her.
“You ready?” Antonio asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I was born ready,” I mutter, which earns a chuckle from both my brothers. I’m thirty-nine, and the wait for the perfect woman has been long. Now that she’s ours, I vow to make all the years we’re given together count. No more waiting for life to start.
“Unlike other mafia brides, at least this one has backup husbands,” Alexis chuckles darkly.
“I’m not planning to die any time soon,” I mutter, but he isn’t wrong. There is strength in numbers, and with three of us by her side, she and our children will never be alone.
My gaze locks on Aemelia, tracing the slow sway of her hips and the proud lift of her chin. She has always carried herself with a quiet grace, but now, she walks like a queen.
Aemelia Venturi. It has a much better ring to it than Lambretti. I can’t say I’m sorry to see Carlo’s name go.
When she reaches the altar, she waits for her brother to lift her veil. Since his time in rehab, his hands have been steady, his eyes clear. There’s no going back for him. He understands what will happen to him if he does.
Aemelia’s eyes shine, her skin glows, and her full lips curve into a soft, eager smile. We’ve all been waiting for this day, but Aemelia especially. It’s important to her that everyone sees that she’s not just our captive anymore. She’s our love, and now our wife.
I reach out for her hand, drawing her gently toward me. Once, I had to stoop to hold her hand. Not anymore. She meets my gaze, her own intensity like an open palm against my chest.
“You kept us waiting,” I whisper, and she gives me a cheeky smile.
“Was I worth the wait?”
I brush my thumb over the back of her hand. “I waited thirty-nine years for you, Aemelia. What’s a few more minutes?”
Her blush is sweet, her surprised expression enough to warm my heart. Antonio and Alexis gather closer as the priest begins the service.
His words wash over me like a dream because all I can think about is our life beginning today. From the moment Mario was murdered, our lives were knocked off course—grief, anger, and vengeance consumed us, driving away any hope of happiness. But now, we’re putting that chapter to rest.
When the priest instructs us to repeat after him, my throat tightens. Aemelia’s voice is soft but steady, unwavering as she commits herself to me, to us. The emptiness I have carried for so long is filled by her promises. I turn to my brothers, seeing the same devotion in their eyes.
The service ends, and I’m told to kiss my bride. My hands tremble as I cup her face, drawing her close. The first brush of our lips as husband and wife is unlike any kiss before—it's the beginning of something new, something sacred. The first words inked in a book.
Once upon a time…
…a girl was rescued by three brothers to live happily ever after.
It’s a shortened version of the truth. The path was rocky, but we got there.
And we’ll love her, and she’ll love us.
Aemelia is breathless when I finally release her to the shouts and cheers of our friends, loved ones, and tentative allies. I take her hand and pass her to Antonio, who wraps his arms around her and kisses her like a man starving for her touch. More whoops and cheers erupt, though the priest has already withdrawn—displeased perhaps but content with the generous donation we made to the church.