ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-ONE Isabelle woke up to the sunlight spilling across the suite, and to the realization that today was the day. The day she would officially become Alessandro’s wife… willingly. It was a matter of choice this time around. This time she was the one choosing… the one choosing her happiness. Her stomach fluttered not because she was nervous, but with a warm kind of anticipation she has never felt before. Today wasn't just a wedding, it was the day she would bind her heart—her life—to a man who once terrified her, then loved her so fiercely it remade her completely. Sophia sat cross-legged on the bed beside her, already drinking champagne. “Morning, princess,” Sophia said, squinting dramatically. “You're glowing.” Isabelle laughed, one hand smoothing over the curve of her stomach. “I feel like I'm glowing.” “You are marrying the Don of La Cosa Nostra,” Sophia reminded her with a grin on her face. “Most brides get butterflies. You get bodyguards and a guest lis
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