Rosalia's POV
I'm a mess of nervousness ,my hands sweating around the bouquet, my lips trembling, my teeth rattling a little as Maria helps me walk down the stairs , proving to be hard in this long ass dress.
Shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? The minimal breakfast I ate threatens to come out. The corset feels like it's choking my whole body. I'm starting to sweat.
"Hey…" Maria whispers, stopping in front of me. That snaps me out of my daze and I physically flinch. Alessio's mother is out of earshot now, and I wonder if I should fill Maria in on all this but then I figure, this is not the right time, but I want to tell her ,something about sharing this secret with her feels right. I make a mental note to do just that after this wedding.Shes the only person I trust around here .
She stretches her hand out, handing me a pack of wipes. I reach for them, but she takes them back. I look at her in confusion.
"Let me…" she says, stepping closer.
She takes the bouquet from my hand and wipes it where it's all sweaty. Then she wipes my trembling hands, and I sigh in relief the simple action making me feel a bit better.
"I know this ain't easy for you," she says, looking up at me and flipping my veil back to reveal my face.
I close my eyes as she dabs the wipes lightly over my forehead and cheeks, careful not to ruin my makeup. God, I don't know how I'll ever thank her.
"But… I've seen how you carry yourself, Raven. And seeing you scared doesn't suit you. So you'll go out there and act like a bride. Even if it's clear you want none of this… do it for your sake."she says her voice small but strong.
I'm kind of startled because that's the most words I've ever heard her say.
I give her a warm smile and a thank you I practice my breathing. Seconds later, I'm feeling somewhat composed.
Just don't die, Rose.
I make a mental note.
"There. Less nervous," she giggles, placing my veil back in place and handing me the bouquet again.
"Let's go," she says.
I follow behind her as we walk to the backyard where the wedding is taking place.
I recite a few things in my head. I don't speak until my stepbrother speaks and I sure hope I get his name, at least, before he realizes I don't know shit about me.
It feels weird to even address him as my stepbrother. But he is , considering the current situation I'm in , I'll just have to go with it .
But that's if I get past the fact that he'll surely notice I'm not his sister. That thought makes my stomach turn because I don't know what will happen when he does.
We finally step outside and oh my god.Its breathtaking.
The backyard looks like something torn straight from a fairytale… if fairytales were written by devils.
White petals are scattered across the grass, glistening with dew under the morning light. Strings of crystal lights drape from the oak trees, swaying with the breeze like fragile stars. The air smells like roses and wealth ,sweet, dizzying, and fake.
Guests chatter softly ,men in sharp tailored suits that do nothing to hide the guns at their sides , women in beautifully dull-colored dresses ,black, grey, dark blue. No bright colors in sight. Their laughter is too bright, their smiles too polished. Champagne glasses clink in rhythm with the violins playing somewhere near the archway. Everything feels too perfect, like a performance. And I'm the lead actress in a tragedy I didn't audition for.
The aisle stretches before me ,long and shimmering, lined with white roses and silver ribbons. At the end of it stands the altar ,simple, elegant, sacred. A place where lies will be bound by vows and sealed with a kiss.
My husband-to-be looks devilishly handsome in that suit that hugs his frame perfectly. His hair is a bit messy but perfect the sun catching his facial structurs he looks hot and intimidating, he's whispering something to one of his guards.
My fingers tighten around the bouquet. My heart thunders.
I turn to face Maria. She gives me a warm smile.
"Hey, siz," a deep male voice calls and I turn slightly, only to be met with a tall, blonde guy. Blue eyes. His suit elegant, his shoes polished to perfection. A single black rose petal pinned to his jacket. His scent a mix of musk, gunpowder, and man's cologne.
Raven's stepbrother. Shit.
Suddenly my vision blurs, but I pull myself together as he steps forward and hugs me. I stiffen.
What in the—?!
I hesitantly hug him back, and he sighs, hugging me tighter.
"You finally dyed your hair black," he snorts, pulling back, his eyes holding a lot of adoration—and guilt?
"Am so sorry Raven ..I missed you ..,"he whispers, hugging me again .
"It's..ok ," I stutter. The only words I find safe to say . My heart is practically leaping out of it's place from how hard it's thudding.
"Hug time's over. Move!" Alessio's mother's voice calls, and I roll my eyes as we pull away from te hug .
"We'll talk after this. Let's go," my stepbrother says, looping our hands together as we start walking forward.
The chatter dies down. Everyone stands, eyes on me, huge smiles on their faces. Fake.
It dawns on me like a sick realization, and I finally conclude Raven was my look-alike or something, because there's no fucking way Julio recognized me as Raven and her stepbrother too. The only difference is the hair color.
Twin sister? …No.
I laugh softly under my breath at the thought. I don't even realize when we reach the altar until I feel my stepbrother unloop our hands. I turn, and he gives me a smile before walking back to the crowd.
I look up at the outstretched hand of Alessio. Our eyes meet, and I'm sure they soften a little or maybe I'm just crazy because this man is anything but soft . Once he helps me up, we now stand facing each other.
Pull it together, Rose.
I pep talk myself, taking a deep breath. I'll be okay.
He takes my veil off, his face stoic and expressionless. I mirror him, not even forcing a smile. Jerk. At least he could pretend to be happy.
Look who's talking.
The priest goes on and on, reading a verse about marriage from his Bible. Soon, the ring part comes. He slides mine on; I slide his on. We say the vows ones I didn't write. They were just handed to me. He does the same.
This is so dry it's giving fake in all ways. But I didn't expect anything else. This is a mafia wedding, one where we're both kind of forced to be the bride and groom, so warmth isn't exactly what you'd expect.
My heart rate picks up when the priest says:
"I now pronounce you husband and wife… You may now kiss the bride."
Alessio steps forward. My breath hitches.His scent wraps around me and suddenly the crowd and the priest fade into background noice.
Sweet mother of biscuits I did not prepare for this.
His dark eyes dip to my lips, his finger brushes my jaw, his huge hand snakes around my waist pulling me closer and he dips me away from the crowd slightly. My eyes shut, my heart beating so loud he could hear it.
I feel his breath on my lips, and my body moves of its own accord. I lean forward , ready to kiss him but I'm met with nothing.
He presses a feather-light kiss on my cheek before pulling away, and the crowd roars.He steps back a hair and grins down at me .
Jerk.
I clear my throat, my face heating up.
Why did I want him to kiss me?
I shake the stupid thought away .
He takes my hand and we walk down the aisle as cheers grow louder and louder. I look at him he smiles slightly at the crowd. I also muster a warm smile for the guests. We greet and hug a few who offer congratulations.All while his hands stay on my waist or our fingers laced together. His touch brings a sense of comfort to me and I find my self leaning into it .
And then I see him walking toward us.
My stepbrother.
My heart sinks to my knees. I swallow hard, tightening my grip on the bouquet.
Shit.