CHAPTER 4

The day i dreaded has come, and I was in a room filled with strangers seriously working on my hair and makeup. I had no idea who they were or where I was, but Lucas brought me here, and the others seemed to just make themselves available. Our supposed wedding was set to take place at a cathedral, a setting that struck me as odd given the questionable characters assembled to witness our union.

"Ma'am, do you like it?" one of them inquired as she turned my chair to face the mirror. A smile crept across my face when I saw the transformation – beautiful makeup that struck the right balance, and my long, smooth black hair expertly curled. It was a departure from my usual straight style, and I loved it. I nodded in approval. "Yes."

"Perfect! Let's get you in your dress now, okay?" she said, leading me to the dress. They swiftly laced it up and made the necessary adjustments. Despite it not being the dress i wanted, I had to admit I looked stunning.

"Why did he choose this dress?" I asked, hoping for an answer. The response was a shared exchange of glances. "We cannot answer your question, ma'am."

Undiscouraged, I asked about the bridesmaids, wondering if he had a surprise in store. "I am afraid you don't, ma'am," came the disappointing reply.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. One of them answered, and in walked my father and brother, Papa and Camillo.

“Mio Dio, sei Cosi Bella” papa said in Italy. Despite their tensed relationship, they embraced me warmly. "You look very beautiful. I wish your mother was here to see you," Papa said, injecting a somber note.

"Don't make me cry, Papa," I frowned, attempting to hold back my tears. Camillo lightened the mood, teasing, "Every bride cry at her wedding."

"Are you sure you still want to go through with this?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. I nodded resolutely. "Yes, Camillo, I'm excited to get married. I'm ready to start a family with him!" A lie that i needed to maintain.

As I adorned the jewelry given by Mr. Firmino, a knock signaled that it was time to proceed. Papa and Camillo offered their hands, and we descended the stairs, reaching the closed doors of the cathedral.

Nervousness crept in – was this the right decision? Was it worth it? Camillo's beaming smile reminded me of the importance of the moment. The doors opened, "Dandelions by Ruth B" played, and we entered.

The sight inside the cathedral left me breathless – it was packed with unfamiliar faces, an intimidating crowd. Ivy's familiar face made me relax. We proceeded, and as my eyes met the groom, he stood handsomely, for the first time I saw him smile though it was a fake one but still, I preferred it.

"Wow, good score Cammy," Camillo whispered, his first encounter with the groom. As we reached the top, my father and brother delivered their parting words. "Take care of my sister," Camillo urged, and the groom nodded.

"Protect her," Papa added, giving him my hands.

"With my life," he responded, extending his hand toward me. I recalled him ignoring my outstretched hand before. Assessing him from head to toe, I chose to walk up beside him without taking his hand.

His irritation was intense; he clenched his fist and turned shortly to face the priest. The struggle to maintain my smile became pointless but I was satisfied seeing him embarrassed in front of everyone. He deserved a taste of his own medicine, and I wasn't sorry for administering it to him.

How could he treat me poorly and then expect royal treatment in return? He deserved this, and I wouldn't apologize for standing my ground.

"Let us begin," the priest began. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Camilla Rocco and Lucas Firmino." The priest gave a marriage speech, leading us through the exchange of rings and vows.

Then, he turned to me. "Camilla Rocco, do you take Lucas Firmino to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The urge to say no was strong, to retreat to my content life in America. I should have spared myself from the awaiting torment and bondage. But against my will, I uttered, "I do."

The priest turned to Lucas. "Lucas Firmino, do you take Camilla Rocco to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Without hesitation, he replied, "I do."

"With that, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride."

My heart raced as Lucas looked down at me, moving closer. Due to my instincts, I closed my eyes out of fear as i feel his soft, warm lips on mine. He gave me a quick kiss with the crowd erupting in applause.

"Now you can brag about kissing an Italian man," he whispered in my ear, turning to acknowledge the cheering crowd.

"Let the celebration begin!" Someone in the crowd shouted, and laughter filled the air.