All Chapters of Intertwined : Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

Violette The air was thick with the scent of lavender and something vaguely citrusy. Soft, ethereal music hummed from hidden speakers, and the light was so dim I half-expected to see fairies flitting about. We were all swathed in absurdly plush white robes, sipping cucumber water from elegant flutes."Can you even believe it's three days?" Alessia whispered, her voice a little breathless, like she was talking about a secret. She adjusted her robe, though it was already perfectly draped.Mia, ever the pragmatist, leaned forward, a glint in her eye. "Three days until Operation Flawless Bride is a go! And Phase One, my dear Alessia, involves the removal of any and all extraneous hair."Aria snorted, a delicate, un-spa-like sound. "Ah yes, the grand defuzzing. More like Operation Scream and Suppress Crying." She caught my eye and winked. "You ready for this, V?"I took a slow sip of my water, the coolness a welcome contrast to the hum of nerves in my own stomach. "As I'll ever be. I've h

RenzoI leaned against the polished bar, the low hum of music draping the room in an easy comfort as I watched the crowd sway to its beat. My cousin Alessia had arrived in a flurry, her tousled hair and tear-streaked cheeks bringing an unusual kind of warmth to the night's festivities. She had clasped the girls in an embrace, thankful for the efforts they’d poured into organizing this party. The party was in full swing,mingling with the clinking of glasses and the faint shuffle of cards from the poker tables.My phone buzzed, but I ignored it. I didn't need any distractions; I was already preoccupied with what was unfolding just across the room. That was where Violette stood, radiant as ever, a living beacon of grace that inexplicably tugged at my chest. Different men had approached her, their bravado surface deep and fragile, but every time, she deftly deflected them with a polite smile, returning her focus back to Aria, her sturdy companion like a protective shield.Frankly, I a

Voilette I settle down on my seat beside Gianna, add take my time to look around the beautiful place, trying to ignore the pang in my chest.Christian’s parents, who bore the trappings of traditional American elegance, enter the room with modest charm. Christian is their only child, which explained the doting nature they exhibited toward him and his soon-to-be bride.My eyes flick back to Renzo across the table on their own accord, and my heart melts at the sight that greets me.Renzo’s head is bent low, his dark hair brushing against Bianca’s blonde crown as she whispers something in his ear, her small hand cupped conspiratorially over her mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. He chuckles,—and I get a head rush— he reaches out to brush a stray curl from her temple, he bends and whispers something in her ear, her giggles fill the room, and my heart melts at the sound. Renzo's laughter follows, and I'm captivated by the warmth of the moment. The little girl's eyes sparkle as

Voilette The last strains of "That's Amore" faded, replaced by a DJ trying to coax the remaining revelers onto the dance floor. Alessia, radiant in golden reception dress, was being spun around by Christian, her laughter echoing through the hotel ballroom.It had been a fairytale wedding, a whirlwind of white roses, sun-drenched cobblestones, and enough prosecco to float a gondola. But now, the magic was dissipating, leaving behind a residue of exhaustion and a desperate need for sleep.I sighed, tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and stifled a yawn. Being a bridesmaid sounded glamorous, but the reality was a marathon of smiles, photo ops, my feet aching in these ridiculously high heels, and the champagne buzz had worn off hours ago, leaving me with a dull headache.At least Aria, bless her, was just as exhausted. Gianna, ever the picture of composed beauty, was deep in conversation with Matteo near the dessert table.Honestly, everything is exhausting to even look at."

RenzoThe first thing I was aware of was the slice of sun cutting through a gap in the heavy hotel curtains, landing directly on my eyelids. The second, the most potent and immediate sensation, was the ghost of her lips on mine.Violette.Her name is a sigh in my mind.I roll onto my back, and close my eyes again, but I could still see her face.The way her amber eyes had widened in surprise before fluttering shut.The moon had cast a silver glow on her skin, revealing subtle hints of warmth, like a gentle blush of summer’s eve.And those lips. God, those lips. Full and soft, painted a deep berry that I’d tasted, that had stained my own.She is a stunning Latina, every feature of her face a masterpiece of warmth and passion that calls to something primal inside me.I'd only officially met her the joint bachelor-bachelorette.I still remember our first encounter in the parking lot, where she'd scolded me for smoking, not holding back even though I was a total stranger. Nothing could've