Novel & Cerita Mafia Wedding Dress

Book three of Owned by the king of blackwood A mafia's wedding dress doesn't just need to look beautiful it also needs to hide a gun. I stood on the pedestal, staring at my reflection while Bianca yanked the corset laces so tight I could barely pull air into my lungs. "B, stop," I gasped, clutching the mirror. "You’re going to crack a rib." "Beauty is pain, Elena," Bianca snapped, her mouth full of pins. "You’re marrying the King of New York in two weeks. You aren’t walking down that aisle looking soft."

I wonder if the others will attend the wedding and will they recognize me? Good fuck, Bella, get a grip on yourself. Two hours later, I finally got into my dress. The dress was a white satin with a deep v-neck, a backless high-slit long dress. It fell on the floor. I didn't wear a veil because this is only a marriage on paper. I did however choose a small tiara. Uncle Michael walked in; he had a blue suit on. He looked at me with a smile on his face and said, ‘You look beautiful, Bella.” He smiled.

Even if I dressed in yellow sundresses and wore bows in my hair, the men around me would always see the sharp edge beneath the silk. So I packed a bag. Nothing flashy. No designer clothes. I tucked my real ID into a locked drawer and printed a new one. Clean. Civilian. I became Gilda Romano, a simple girl from a seaside town near Naples. I had studied psychology and worked as a floral assistant in my aunt’s shop. I liked lavender tea and poetry. I hated guns. I didn’t know what the mafia even really did, only what I’d seen on the news. I became someone else.

I was now the partner of the famous Mafia lord and I had this dark feeling that he would ask a huge thing in return one day. “So—” I wanted to initiate a conversation, but Cristiano cut me off before I could say anything more. “We don’t have to chat.” I bit my lip, feeling frustrated at his coldness. “But I need to know where we’re going.” “To make our marriage legal,” he replied bluntly without even glancing at me. “I don’t have the necessary papers we need for the ceremony—” “They’ve been prepared for you,” he interrupted, glancing at his watch as if this entire situation was just another business deal for him.

"Tall, broody, deadly, and follicularly blessed. You're really setting the bar high for my mysterious fiancé, you know." "For someone facing a mafia engagement, you're oddly picky," he muttered. "Call it survival instinct. If I'm going to be Mrs. Giovanni Galliardi, I'd like to enjoy the view while I spiral into moral ambiguity." He gave her that look again—half-annoyed, half-amused. The kind that said she was trouble he never signed up for... but wasn't exactly trying to escape from, either. "You think a nice jawline will make this easier?"

“Anche tuo padre è orgoglioso.” “Good job, Sienna.” I turned to face my father, smiling at me. It was the first time he smiled, but even after praising me for doing a good job by marrying Lucian, his smile never seemed to reach his eyes. “Thank you, Papa,” I said, forcing myself to smile back. After greeting the other guests, everyone started talking about business. After all, this wedding was only a front. The guests came to connect with the Vale and the Moretti family, not to genuinely congratulate the newlyweds.

I was low-key eager to do this… After I was done getting ready, Gabe finally decided it's now time to get the dress that he has apperently visualized. He comes out wearing a bombass outfit. We were both ready to go have fun. I honestly wasn't doing this to spite Stephano because personally I needed the buzz the club has to offer so I could take my mind off my demanding life and just have fun. It's funny I say demanding life when I don't have a really serious job yet, but trust me being a wife to a Mafia leader was just insanely tiring, more than you did expect.

The chandelier dangled in the center of the hall. The people were scattered around, gossiping about their Luna, who had lost her husband a month ago. Their eyes were fixed on me, giving me judgmental looks. I ignored their gazes, trying to be confident. I was dressed in a plain white dress. It had long sleeves, and all the parts of my body were covered. Today I came to a wedding. It was my closest friend Mia's wedding. She invited me a long time ago, when her marriage was set up with one of the wealthiest businessmen.

The guests were seated respectfully, the melody of jazz music entertained the guests, and as much as it was a wedding, it was a wedding like the Mafia style; their dress code and the way it would be conducted were all in the way of the Mafia customs. However, in one of the rooms in the Viper's household, Lillth was dressed up beautifully in a tight-fitted golden fringe dress with a slit. Her hair was done in a medieval bride style: a bun with curled hair rolled upward and secured with a hairpin. A pearl necklace made from precious stones adored her neck, ears, and wrist. She took a deep breath, feeling nervous. "I hope we won't get caught." Jenny stopped in her track, then resumed helping he

I walked into the bridal studio with my wedding gown draped over my arms. Four years as Bianca Marchello—fiancée of Enzo Marchello, heir to the most powerful mafia family in the city—and here I was, asking a seamstress to alter my wedding dress to another woman’s measurements. “Are you sure about the size change?” the seamstress asked gently as she pinned the new bust line—smaller, narrower, perfect for Lucia Ricci. “Yes.” My voice didn’t tremble.