Page 59 of Power

CALISTA

Squinting through the boutique’s large window, I scanned the street outside, taking in the bulky figures clad in tailored suits and earpieces. I counted the familiar faces, reaching a total of twelve bodyguards, their presence as obvious as ever, not even including the ones flanking my sisters.

The whole scene was absolutely ridiculous.

With a deep sigh, I reminded myself of the capable security already at my disposal.

Yet, here we were, with even more men stationed outside. It was clear Leon had orchestrated this without a word to me, and although I attempted to swallow my irritation, the effort was in vain.

Most of the guards were under Leon’s command, with only a handful dispatched by the Vitalis family. I mentally noted to address this extravagant display with him. The potential cost gave me a chill, even though I knew Leon wouldn’t be bothered by the expense.

His intentions were rooted in protection, but the spectacle made discretion a lost cause. The men tried to blend in, pretending to linger, yet their vigilant stances screamed otherwise, drawing attention to the fact that they were guarding a mafia princess.

I considered bringing this up with my sisters, hoping for some solidarity or even just shared exasperation. But as I turned back toward them, ready to voice my thoughts, Avra interrupted with a grin, pressing another sparkling champagne flute into my hand, the bubbles dancing up the glass in a silent cheer.

“Drink!”

“If you insist.” I downed the sparkling golden spirit. “But if I keep this up, I won’t be able to walk, let alone stand up long enough to try on another gown.”

The boutique’s lighting reflected off the rows of pristine white dresses hanging like dreams waiting to be tried on. I was here to find my perfect wedding dress, but the bubbles from the flutes of champagne they kept refilling had gone to my head, making my steps a little unsteady on the plush carpet.

“You’re drinking for both of us,” Avra teased, her hand resting on her prominently rounded belly, which seemed ready to burst with life. Her skin radiated a soft glow, and sheexuded an air of serene beauty that made her look like a fucking goddess descended from Olympus, glowing with health and happiness.

“And for both of us as well.” Laya indicated Constantine, who nestled against her while nursing happily. She ran her fingers through the baby’s dark curls.

“Exactly,” Avra continued with a playful grin. “You have to finish this bottle for us since we can’t join in.”

I giggled as I wobbled back to the dressing room, the champagne flute cool in my hand. “I don’t think that’s a wise move.” I pulled aside the heavy velvet curtain. “Besides, Avra, you’re on the brink of bringing a new life into the world, and I’d hate to be slumped over in a champagne-induced stupor when your little one decides to make an entrance.”

“Don’t jinx it,” she replied with a mock-serious tone. “I want this baby to hold off until after the wedding.”

“I think that decision might be up to the baby,” Laya stated.

As I stood behind the curtain, I smiled while thinking of my sisters. Laya was a fantastic mother, and I had every confidence that Avra would be just as amazing. After all, she had practically raised both Laya and me when we were in hiding in Prague.

Sometimes, it felt more like she and Vik were my parents than our mother and father had been. I’d been so young when they’d died, and I had so many more important memories that I shared with Avra.

It made me sad to think of all the things our parents hadmissed. And now, my wedding would be just another stark reminder of their absence.

I slipped on the third dress of the day and stared at myself in the mirror.

In the end, I decided it was way too poofy, but I walked out to my sisters anyway. They’d only make me put it back on if they didn’t get a chance to see it.

“It’s…so…” Laya let her gaze roam from the tiny off-the-shoulder sleeves down to the widening froth around my hips.

Avra shuffled ahead with a slight wobble due to her swollen belly. She placed her hand on her rounded belly while squinting at me.

“No. You look like a marshmallow drifting off the cake stand,” she declared, warm but firm. “Why does the dress flare out like a bell? It’s supposed to be a dress, not a blimp.”

“Glad we’re unanimous.” I pursed my lips.

“Even though you look like you’re about to float away like a cloud in the sky, you’re still beautiful, Cali,” she said. “Mama and Papa would be proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said, my smile fading.

Avra seemed to notice my sadness. She grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured me another glass.

“Keep drinking,” she said.

---