Page 86 of His Enemy's Daughter
“Exactly.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Now stop second-guessing everything and go get ready. David’s already drinking the good wine, Tiziano keeps checking his watch like he has somewhere more important to be, and I’d really like to marry you before sunset. But you are delaying because you want the lighting to be perfect for the photos.”
“I would never—”
“You absolutely would.” But he’s grinning, that dangerous smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “You’ve reorganized the seating arrangement three times this morning. Go. Get dressed. Become my wife before you find something else to optimize.”
I kiss him, then head inside where my dress waits. Simple ivory silk that flows like water, nothing like the elaborate gown Sabino would have insisted on if he’d lived to see me married. This is mine. Chosen. Perfect.
Loriana appears in the doorway as I’m fastening the last button. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I study my reflection, seeing a woman I barely recognize—happy, free, about to marry someone she chose and loves. “And thank you for being here. I know it’s a long trip with Alessandro—”
“Are you kidding?” She settles onto the bed, bouncing slightly to keep the baby entertained. “Simeone’s been insufferable about this wedding since Mauricio called. His best friend is finally settling down? He wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Mauricio’s lucky to have him.”
“They’re lucky to have each other.” Her expression softens. “Fifteen years Simeone waited, hoping Mauricio would survive prison. And now he gets to watch him get married. It means more than you probably realize.”
A knock interrupts before I can respond. Tiziano’s voice carries through the door. “Regina? There’s someone here. Simeone invited him as a gift.”
I exchange glances with Loriana, then open the door to find—
“Giordano?”
He stands in the hallway looking older, thinner, wearing clothes that don’t quite fit his frame. But his eyes are the same—steady,protective, carrying years of watching over me when no one else would.
“Regina.” His voice cracks slightly. “You look... I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I cross the distance between us in three steps, pulling him into an embrace that speaks of shared history and survival. “How are you here? Witness protection—”
“Simeone.” Giordano’s smile is tired but genuine. “Apparently, your fiancé’s best friend has connections that can track people who don’t want to be found. He contacted my handler, explained the situation, and got permission for me to attend under supervision.” He gestures to a man standing discreetly down the hall. “That’s Marshal Cooper. He’ll be watching to make sure I don’t cause problems.”
“You could never cause problems.” I pull back, studying his face. “Are you okay? Is the program treating you well?”
“Well enough.” His shrug is noncommittal. “New city, new name, new life. It’s strange but safe. Better than I deserve after everything I did for your father.”
“Everything you did to survive while protecting me,” I correct firmly. “Don’t diminish that, Giordano. You saved me more times than I can count.”
“And you saved me by including me in that deal. I couldn’t believe my luck when the prosecutor decided not to send me toprison.” He reaches out, touching my arm gently. “I’m alive and free because you fought for me. That’s not something I’ll forget.”
Loriana clears her throat diplomatically. “I’ll give you two a moment. Ceremony starts in fifteen minutes, Regina.”
She slips out with Alessandro, leaving Giordano and me in weighted silence.
“I have something to tell you,” he says finally. “Simeone asked me to. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo Di Noto. Your former fiancé?” Giordano’s smile turns grim. “He’s in prison. Turns out Detective Borghese found evidence connecting him to several of Sabino’s operations. Money laundering, mostly. He’s looking at eight to twelve years.”
The information settles oddly—I should feel satisfaction, maybe, or vindication that the man who saw me as a business acquisition is facing consequences. Instead, I feel nothing. Lorenzo is just another piece of wreckage from a life I’ve left behind.
“Good,” I say finally. “He deserves it.”
“He does.” Giordano studies me with the careful attention of someone who’s known me since childhood. “You’re really happy, aren’t you? With Mauricio?”
“I am.” The truth of it still surprises me sometimes. “He’s... everything I didn’t know I needed. Dangerous and loyal and so arrogant that I want to throw things at his head half the time. But he’s mine. He chose me, and I chose him, and we’re building something real.”
“Then I’m happy for you.” His expression softens into something almost paternal. “You deserve this, Regina. After everything Sabino put you through, you deserve a man who loves you.”
