Page 94 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

Before grief can weigh me down, music beginsto play. Aemelia’s brother, CJ, appears in the doorway. And beside him, ourbride.

She’s the picture of elegance, enveloped incream lace that clings to her curves before spilling out into a fluted skirt.Tight sleeves drape over her hands, modest yet breathtaking. Over her headrests her mother’s veil, a final tether to the past she’s leaving behind. Asthe 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 carvingaway 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. Thesehands—stained with blood, calloused and unworthy—have taken life withouthesitation, but today, they will only hold hers, gentle and reverent. I haveknown power and commanded fear, but today, for the first time, I’m undone bysomething 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 nevermeant to be mine—never meant to belong to any of us—but fate, who’s been ascruel as she’s been generous, wove our paths together in the kind of story thatshouldn’t have a happy ending. And yet, here she is, walking toward us, theonly men who have ever been willing to burn the world to keep her safe. Mychest tightens, my heart a raw, aching thing in my ribs. I never believed I’dfind love and still don’t fully believe I deserve her.

“You ready?” Antonio asks, interrupting mythoughts.

“I was born ready,” I mutter, which earns achuckle from both my brothers. I’m thirty-nine, and the wait for the perfectwoman has been long. Now that she’s ours, I vow to make all the years we’regiven together count. No more waiting for life to start.

“Unlike other mafia brides, at least this onehas backup husbands,” Alexis chuckles darkly.

“I’m not planning to die any time soon,” Imutter, but he isn’t wrong. There is strength in numbers, and with three of usby her side, she and our children will never be alone.

My gaze locks on Aemelia, tracing the slowsway of her hips and the proud lift of her chin. She has always carried herselfwith a quiet grace, but now, she walks like a queen.

Aemelia Venturi. It has a much better ring toit thanLambretti. I can’t say I’m sorry to seeCarlo’s name go.

When she reaches the altar, she waits for herbrother 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 happento him if he does.

Aemelia’s eyes shine, her skin glows, and herfull 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 notjust our captive anymore. She’s our love, and now our wife.

I reach out for her hand, drawing her gentlytoward me. Once, I had to stoop to hold her hand. Not anymore. She meets mygaze, her own intensity like an open palm against my chest.

“You kept us waiting,” I whisper, and shegives me a cheeky smile.

“Was I worth the wait?”

I brush my thumb over the back of her hand. “Iwaited thirty-nine years for you, Aemelia. What’s a few more minutes?”

Her blush is sweet, her surprised expressionenough to warm my heart. Antonio and Alexis gather closer as the priest beginsthe service.

His words wash over me like a dream becauseall I can think about is our life beginning today. From the moment Mario wasmurdered, our lives were knocked off course—grief, anger, and vengeanceconsumed us, driving away any hope of happiness. But now, we’re putting thatchapter to rest.

When the priest instructs us to repeat afterhim, my throat tightens. Aemelia’s voice is soft but steady, unwavering as shecommits herself to me, to us. The emptiness I have carried for so long isfilled by her promises. I turn to my brothers, seeing the same devotion intheir eyes.

The service ends, and I’m told to kiss mybride. My hands tremble as I cup her face, drawing her close. The first brushof our lips as husband and wife is unlike any kiss before—it's the beginning ofsomething 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. Thepath was rocky, but we got there.

And we’ll love her, and she’ll love us.

Aemelia is breathless when I finally releaseher 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 andkisses her like a man starving for her touch. More whoops and cheers erupt,though the priest has already withdrawn—displeased perhaps but content with thegenerous donation we made to the church.

Money is power, after all.

Alexis is last and, of course, always theshowman, dipping her low with his usual flair, pressing a kiss to her lips likesomething out of a black-and-white film. When he pulls her upright, she’sflushed and radiant, glowing with happiness. So perfect that my throat burnswith unshed emotion.

I swallow it down. No one will ever see thismob boss cry.

Except maybe Aemelia, later, when we’re alone,and I show her how much it means that she has chosen to walk beside us, to layby our sides, to be ours in every way that matters.

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