Chapter 19 : THE WEDDING DAY

MORETTI ESTATE - LORENZO'S ROOM

Lorenzo stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting his cufflinks.

Black suit. Crisp white shirt. Simple silk tie.

He looked like he was going to a business meeting, not a wedding.

Maybe that's what this was.

A transaction.

He heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Vincenzo entered, closing the door behind him.

He was already dressed too. Dark grey suit. His expression unreadable.

"I want to have a word with you, Lorenzo."

Lorenzo didn't turn from the mirror. "Yes?"

"Have you thought about his survival?"

"What—"

"You know what I'm talking about." Vincenzo's voice was firm.

"That boy has a life-threatening disease. You can't just get married to him and... see what happens."

Lorenzo's hands stilled on his cufflinks.

"I know."

"Do you?" Vincenzo stepped closer.

"Because if he dies after the marriage, under our roof, the consequences will be there. The Volkovs won't just accept it. They'll—"

"I know, Father." Lorenzo turned around. "I've thought about it."

"And?"

"I have a solution."

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow.

"What solution?"

"I've been talking with specialists." Lorenzo moved to his desk, picked up a file. "There are three doctors in the world who have handled this disease completely.

Successfully, I mean. Dr. Henrik Lindgren is one of them. From Stockholm."

He handed the file to his father.

"I'm contacting him. After the marriage, he'll come here. Discuss everything with Kyrian, with us, with everyone."

Vincenzo opened the file. Started reading.

His expression changed. Shifted from concern to something else.

Disbelief maybe.

"A bond," he said quietly.

"Yes."

"Lorenzo—"

"It's the only permanent solution." Lorenzo's voice was calm but there was something underneath it. Tension. "The medications, the distance, the air filters—none of that is enough long-term. You know that."

"A forced bond—"

"Not forced." Lorenzo cut him off.

"Dr. Lindgren will explain everything to him. The process, the risks, the benefits. Kyrian will make the decision himself."

"Will he?" Vincenzo looked up from the file. "Or will you make it for him?"

Silence.

Lorenzo looked away.

"I'll present the facts," he said finally. "What he does with them is up to him."

"And if he says no?"

Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "Then we find another way."

"There is no other way. That's what you just said."

"Then he'll say yes."

Vincenzo stared at his son. "You sound very certain of that."

"I am."

"Because you'll leave him no choice."

Lorenzo didn't deny it.

Vincenzo closed the file. Set it down carefully.

"This could kill him," he said quietly. "The bonding process with his condition—the risk is enormous."

"80% success rate."

"20% death rate," Vincenzo countered. "Those aren't good odds, Lorenzo."

"They're better than the alternative." Lorenzo's voice was hard now. "Three months. That's how long an omega with severe HSPD can survive living with an Enigma without bonding. Three months before the exposure becomes fatal."

"So your solution is to risk killing him immediately instead of—"

"My solution is to give him a chance at a normal life!" Lorenzo's control cracked. "Yes, it's risky. Yes, he could die. But if it works, he's free. No more medications. No more collapses. No more living in fear."

"And if it doesn't work?"

Lorenzo was quiet for a long moment.

"Then I'll have killed him," he said softly. "And I'll deserve whatever comes after."

Vincenzo looked at his son. Really looked at him.

This wasn't just obsession anymore.

This was desperation.

"You care about him," Vincenzo said, surprised.

Lorenzo flinched. "I barely know him."

"That's not what I asked."

Silence.

Lorenzo turned back to the mirror. Straightened his tie even though it didn't need straightening.

"It doesn't matter what I feel," he said quietly. "What matters is keeping him alive."

"Those two things are connected, son."

"Are they?" Lorenzo's voice was bitter. "Because from where I'm standing, what I feel is the problem. If I didn't... if I could just walk away..."

"But you can't."

"No." Lorenzo's reflection looked tired. "I can't."

Vincenzo walked up behind his son. Put a hand on his shoulder.

"Then do it right," he said quietly.

"Tell him the truth. All of it. Don't manipulate. Don't force. Just... be honest."

"And if honesty isn't enough?"

"Then it was never going to work anyway."

Lorenzo looked at his father's reflection in the mirror.

"I'm scared," he admitted. "What if I can't save him? What if everything I do just makes it worse?"

"Then you'll deal with it." Vincenzo squeezed his shoulder. "Together.

That's what marriage is supposed to be."

Lorenzo laughed, short and sharp.

"This isn't exactly a normal marriage."

"No. But it's the one you chose."

Vincenzo stepped back. "Now come on. It's almost time."

Lorenzo nodded.

They walked to the door together.

At the threshold, Lorenzo paused.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For... for trying to understand."

Vincenzo's expression softened.

"I'm your father. I'll always try."

They left the room.

VOLKOV SUITE - KYRIAN'S ROOM

Kyrian sat in front of the mirror.

He'd been sitting there for twenty minutes.

Just staring.

The person in the reflection didn't look like him.

White suit. Fitted perfectly.

Probably cost more than most people made in a year.

White shirt underneath. No tie—his mother said it looked more natural that way.

His hair was styled. Not too perfect, but neat. Pushed back from his face.

Someone had done his makeup.

Light. Natural. Just enough to hide the dark circles and the paleness.

He looked... beautiful.

That's what his mother had said when she saw him.

"Oh, baby. You look so beautiful."

She'd cried.

He hadn't.

He couldn't.

There was nothing left inside him to cry with.

He just felt... empty.

Like someone had scooped out everything that made him him and left behind this hollow shell in expensive clothes.

The door opened behind him.

He didn't turn around.

"Rian?" Ivan's voice. "It's time."

"I know."

"Are you..." Ivan's voice cracked.

"Are you okay?"

Kyrian laughed. It sounded wrong. Too high.

"Do I look okay?"

Ivan came closer. Stood behind him. Their eyes met in the mirror.

"You look like you're going to a funeral," Ivan said quietly.

"Maybe I am."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?" Kyrian's voice was flat.

"It's true. The person I was? He's dead. This—" he gestured at his reflection, "—this is just what's left."

Ivan's hands clenched. "We can still run. Right now. Just say the word and I'll get you out of here."

For a second—just a second—Kyrian considered it.

Pictured himself standing up.

Walking out. Leaving all of this behind.

But then he thought about his father. His mother. The business.

Everything the Morettis would destroy.

"No," he said quietly. "We can't."

"Kyrian—"

"I said no, Ivan." Kyrian stood up slowly. "It's done. The contract is signed. The guests are here. It's happening."

He turned to face his brother.

"I just need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't forget who I was." Kyrian's voice broke slightly. "Before all this. Before him. Don't forget that I used to laugh. That I used to be happy. That I was more than just... this."

Ivan pulled him into a hug.

"I won't forget," he whispered. "I promise. I won't forget."

They stood there for a moment.

Brothers.

Then Ivan pulled back.

"Ready?"

"No." Kyrian took a deep breath. "But let's go anyway."

They walked to the door.

Kyrian paused at the threshold.

Looked back at the mirror one last time.

The stranger in white looked back at him.

This is it, he thought. This is where everything changes.

He turned away.

Followed his brother out.

THE CEREMONY HALL

Small.

That's what Lorenzo had promised. Family only.

But even small felt too big.

The room was decorated simply.

White flowers. Soft lighting.

Classical music playing quietly.

Chairs set up in rows. Maybe thirty people total.

Moretti family on one side. Volkov family on the other.

Like a divide.

Because that's what this was.

Lorenzo stood at the front with the officiant. Hands clasped in front of him.

He looked calm.

He didn't feel calm.

His heart was racing. His palms were sweating.

Any minute now, Kyrian would walk through those doors.

And everything would change.

The music shifted.

Everyone stood.

The doors at the back opened.

And there he was.

Kyrian.

In white.

Looking like something fragile and breakable and too beautiful for this world.

Lorenzo forgot how to breathe.

Kyrian walked slowly down the aisle. Ivan beside him, holding his arm.

Not his father.

Ivan.

Because Kirill couldn't do it.

Couldn't walk his son toward this.

So Ivan did it instead.

Their eyes met.

Kyrian and Lorenzo.

Across the distance.

Kyrian's expression was blank. Empty.

Like he wasn't really there.

Like he'd left his body and this was just a shell going through the motions.

Lorenzo felt something twist in his chest.

What have I done?

But it was too late to stop now.

Kyrian reached the front.

Ivan squeezed his arm once. Then let go.

Stepped back.

Left Kyrian standing there alone.

Face to face with Lorenzo.

The officiant began speaking.

Lorenzo didn't hear the words.

He was too focused on Kyrian.

On the way his hands trembled slightly.

On the way he wouldn't make eye contact.

On the way he looked like he might shatter at any moment.

"...do you, Lorenzo Moretti, take Kyrian Volkov..."

"I do."

The words came automatically.

"...do you, Kyrian Volkov, take Lorenzo Moretti..."

Silence

Kyrian didn't speak.

Everyone held their breath.

"Kyrian?" the officiant prompted gently.

Kyrian's eyes lifted.

Met Lorenzo's.

And there was so much hate in them.

So much rage and pain and betrayal.

"I do," he whispered.

It sounded like a death sentence.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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