Chapter 1

At my best friend's wedding, I caught the bouquet she tossed—only to have my mafia boyfriend hand it to another woman.

Every eye in the room turned to Dante, exchanging knowing looks.

Dante Romano—my boyfriend of eight years, son of the mob boss who controlled the entire city.

The crowd erupted in cheers:

"Marry her! Marry her!"

"It's time to propose!"

Dante was pushed through the crowd until he stood right in front of me.

I blushed, waiting for him to say he'd marry me.

The bridesmaid beside him pouted. "But I want it too."

He immediately yanked the bouquet from my hands.

Handed it to the bridesmaid.

Then patted my shoulder dismissively. "She wants it, so let her have it. Be the bigger person. You'll get one next time."

My eyes followed the flowers as they left my hands.

Watched that girl's face light up with surprise and shy delight.

Forced a smile.

Dante had no idea there wouldn't be a next time.

My wedding was next week.

...

Lana's face went dark instantly.

I grabbed her hand before she could swing it.

She whipped around, eyes redder than mine:

"That bitch did it on purpose! I told every single bridesmaid the bouquet was meant for you..."

"Lana." I cut her off softly. "The wedding's not over."

All eyes had already moved on from me and Dante.

Following that bouquet to land on the bridesmaid's face—Vivian Stone.

She clutched the flowers, gazing at Dante with adoring eyes.

Dante had already stepped back into the crowd, composed as ever.

The emcee was a pro.

A few jokes and the energy was back up.

Lana finally turned away with a huff, continuing the ceremony.

The whole reception, I sat at the bride's family table.

Subjected to pitying and curious stares from every direction.

Dante was at another table, laughing it up with his soldiers and lieutenants.

Vivian sat right next to him, closer than any consigliere's assistant should ever be.

She wasn't even supposed to be a bridesmaid.

Dante brought her everywhere—to territorial meetings, to collections, to sit-downs with the Five Families—called it "grooming her for the organization."

Even to my best friend's wedding, he brought her along.

During the toasts, Lana came to our table with her new husband.

She hugged me tight, whispering in my ear through gritted teeth:

"That woman's been scheming for six months, working her way into Dante's inner circle. I had someone look into her—she's good. Real good. Dante, he..."

"Lana," I patted her back, cutting her off. "Today you're the most beautiful bride. Don't talk about that."

She huffed but dropped it.

When the reception finally ended and guests trickled out, Dante strolled over. "Ready to go?"

He naturally took my purse, other hand moving to drape around my shoulders out of habit.

I shifted slightly, dodging it.

"You've been drinking. I'll call a car."

He didn't seem bothered, just nodded. "Yeah, good call."

The car slid into the night.

My face reflected dimly in the window.

Makeup flawless, but couldn't hide the exhaustion underneath.

"Today," he said suddenly, "Vivian really wanted that bouquet. Girl probably just wanted some good luck."

"You gave it to her. Don't take it personally."

I didn't answer, just watched the neon lights blur past outside.

He waited a moment, then finally looked up from his phone screen. "You mad?"

He leaned in closer. "Didn't we agree? Next time for sure?"

His fingers slid through my loose hair, massaging the back of my neck.

Like soothing a sulking cat.

"Our wedding's gonna blow Lana's out of the water. I'll get you more flowers, better flowers, yeah?"

My heart filled with something bitter.

Every single time, like this.

Soft voice, vague promise about "next time."

Then just assumed the storm would pass.

"Dante." I looked at his reflection in the window.

"Mm?"

"Lana and I made a promise when we were kids."

My voice was steady.

"Whoever gets married first, the other one can't be more than a week behind."

"We were gonna wear each other's bridesmaid dresses. Be the first to witness each other's happiness."

The car went quiet.

His hand on my neck stopped.

"That was kid stuff. You're serious about that?" He laughed.

The hand started moving again, more dismissive now. "Plans change too fast. Venue, dates, arrangements—all that takes six months minimum, sometimes a year."

"We'll plan it right, make it perfect for you. What's the rush?"

He didn't explain why he couldn't promise to marry me in front of everyone.

Just went on and on about how complicated planning a perfect wedding would be.

I suddenly remembered a month before Lana's wedding.

She'd dragged me excitedly to try on the bridesmaid dress she designed herself.

Champagne-colored tulle with tiny pearls along the waist.

When I put it on, Lana's eyes lit up, then got mysteriously wet.

"Elena, you look amazing in this."

"I made it special for you. When you get married, I'm gonna make you an even more beautiful wedding dress!"

Dante had been there too.

Looking down at his phone, dealing with a shipment issue. Glanced up when he heard, smiled briefly.

"Yeah, looks nice."

Then his eyes dropped back to the screen, fingers flying.

In that instant, I felt something cold settle in my chest.

Eight years, and still no outcome.

The car pulled slowly into our building, stopped.

Dante unbuckled his seatbelt.

Seeming to think his little speech had closed the book on this episode, he leaned in naturally, going for a kiss.

I raised my hand, gently pressing against his shoulder.

He froze.

"I'm tired, Dante."