Mafia Wedding Dress Novels & Stories

When I made no attempts to move, he forcefully grabbed my arm and hooked it in his. "Non farlo Alessia. Mi metterai in imbarazzo. Metterete in imbarazzo la mafia (Don't do this Alessia. You will embarrass me. You will embarrass the mafia).’ He growled lowly. I don't miss how he wanted to say his mafia. I smiled tensely as I was handed a bouquet of a dozen white roses. | took a moment to appreciate the beauty of my wedding. | wore a beautiful dress and was standing in an idyllic castle. Just as quickly as that image crossed my mind it left.

The entire Mafia community, standing, watching, and judging. I was dressed in the wedding gown I'd restyled, the one I'd transformed from the overly revealing dress to a style that felt more like me. It was perfect now. Sexy but not overly exposing. The neckline showed just cleavage without being scandalous. The slit revealed my leg without being vulgar. Elegant lace covered my shoulders and arms. Beautiful. Dignified. But the dress held secrets none of these guests knew.

Three hours later, the mansion looked like something from a movie. Crystal chandeliers glowed above hundreds of guests while expensive music floated through the ballroom. Politicians mixed with criminals pretending to be businessmen. Women dripped in diamonds. Men carried hidden weapons beneath designer suits. Typical mafia gathering. I stood near the staircase adjusting the sleeves of my black dress nervously. Unlike the silver club dress Sofia chose earlier that week, this one was elegant. Safe. Appropriate. Unfortunately, my mother still hated it. “You could at least pretend to look excited,” she hissed while fixing a strand of my hair aggressively.

One word from them could build or ruin empires. Over the years, Don Alessandro had built an empire for himself in both the business and the mafia world. He was a force to be reckoned with. A man to be feared. I exhaled slowly, tightened my grip on the railing, and took my first step down the stairs. It wasn’t my first rodeo and certainly won’t be my last. I adjusted the slit of my gown—a deep emerald satin that clung to my skin like sin. The kind of dress that dared people to look twice. My hair was swept up, my lipstick dangerous, all thanks to Serafina. She wanted me to be the star of tonight.

The ceremony was about to begin. I took a slow breath, trying to calm my heart that felt like it might explode. This was really happening. This marriage was truly happening. I, Lucia the fat bride, was going to marry Alexandro De Luca, the handsome mafia man who bound me with a contract marriage.

An hour later, a perfect tiramisu was ready. I wrote the recipe down on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "If you need it again, any pastry chef can make it with this." Caius stared at it, then suddenly grabbed my hand. "Ilaria, you're being weird today." There was a hint of panic in his voice. "I brought home my favorite dress for you. The wedding will be at the family chapel. I've seen how hard you've worked all these years..." I gently pulled my hand away and gave him a small, empty smile.

His face was stoic, but his eyes held a fierce pride as he walked beside me. My dress was deep crimson silk, flowing and fitted, draping elegantly down to the floor and trailing behind me like a river of blood. Gold accents adorned the bodice, woven with symbols of the Mexican Mafia's history—roses, daggers, and intricate patterns that symbolized both strength and beauty.

"I want the whole world to know you're mine." Alyssa's smile faltered for a brief second, and then she stepped back. "I'll see you tonight, Jace," she said softly before turning to leave. ****** The pack gathered as we all waited for Alyssa’s moment, the sky darkening with the full moon hanging high above us. Tonight, she would ask the Moon Goddess to grant her her wolf and reveal her true mate. I stood near the front, my heart racing as I watched her step forward. Her white dress shimmered under the moonlight, making her look heavenly, almost otherworldly.

Meanwhile, the underworld operatives were intrigued by the sheer audacity of holding a mafia wedding disguised as a corporate celebration. As the guests settled, Alexander stood at the altar, his expression a mix of stoicism and unease. He wore a sharp black tuxedo, the faintest hint of gold embroidery on his cuffs symbolizing his family’s crest. His parents, Bronson and Angela, sat in the front row, Angela’s smile radiant but hiding the anxiety of ensuring everything went according to plan.

He was dressed like a groom in a black suit, with a white boutonniere pinned to his chest. My expression darkened. I couldn't believe he'd actually come and stir up trouble on my wedding day, instead of stepping aside with some dignity. He was completely out of his mind. Salvatore placed his hand over mine and reached for the door. "I'll get out and see what's going on." But I stopped him, took his hand, and stepped out by his side. "Let's go together. We're married now, so whatever comes our way, we face it together."