Page 65 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

“A little young for you, you think?”

“Shut up, he’s twenty. Plenty legal.” I winked at her.

She laughed and pulled her long legs to the side and out of the way.

I caught up to the handsome young man and grasped his arm. His gaze slid my way as we continued walking down the aisle.

“I’m here to apologize that you had to take care of me the other night at Elena’s little party.” My papà’s phone call had been haunting me day and night, and I might have gone slightly overboard with the alcohol at her bachelorette. “So, I have a proposal—whenever you go on a bender, I’ll be your DD, take you home, take off your shoes, cover you up, and leave a glass of water and a couple painkillers beside your bed.”

A corner of his lips lifted. “As much as I would love to accept that very specific and generous offer, I didn’t take you home.”

I faltered, pausing in the middle of the entrance hall. “But . . . who did?”

He only gave me a reassuring smile and walked away.

The last memory I had of that party was Dominic escorting me to his car. Tequila and self-loathing had churned in my stomach, and I longed to be home before unconsciousness swallowed me whole. I hadn’t made it, the night slotted into one of the many I’d never remember.

I stared out the glass doors of the church, and suddenly, my heart slowed as something came back to me.

There’d been strong arms, a warm chest.

And two rough words in my ear.

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful bride,” I exclaimed.

Elena blushed, placing a hand on her cheek. “The compliments today are going to go straight to my head.”

“Good. You’re too humble as it is. So”—I linked my arm through hers—“how has the married life been so far?” They’d eloped a short while ago. Apparently, Ace couldn’t even wait one more week.

“It’s been . . .” Her eyes sparkled. “Wonderful. He’s been really good to me, Gianna.”

“Of course, he has. His mamma raised him better than that, even if he’d like to deny it.”

“I wish I could have met her,” she said softly.

“She had her . . . issues.” An addiction to coke I couldn’t judge her for; she’d been in Antonio’s orbit, after all. “But she tried hard to be a good person and mother. She gave me a Willow Tree—you know, those porcelain angels—every year for my birthday.” My smile fell. “If she only knew I would eventually marry her husband . . .”

Shame was a sinkhole I never knew when I’d fall in.

“Oh, Gianna . . . it’s not like you had a choice. I’m sure she would have understood.”

“No, I went into that marriage willingly”—anything to get far away from Chicago—“with an open mind and heart. Let’s just say, I realized it wouldn’t be what I had fantasized it to be the night of my wedding.” I laughed lightly. “Anyway, one of those Willow Trees is yours. Come get one whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Gianna. I would love that.” Her gaze found Nico’s across the room. He was talking to his uncle Jimmy. If I stepped between that look, I was sure my dress would catch fire.

If love were visible, it couldn’t be far from the soft heat in their eyes.

“Gosh.” I fanned my face. “It’s getting so sweet in here I feel like I’m in the middle of a Hallmark moment.”

She laughed, pulled her gaze away. “Sure, minus the tension and guns.”

We both looked around the ballroom of the hotel hosting the reception. The Abellis stayed on one side of the room, while the Russos congregated on the other. The most enthusiastic pair was Luca, who leaned against the wall, chewing on a toothpick and staring at the other famiglia, while Nadia Abelli, the party police, flipped through a Vogue magazine. Even the kids watched each other like the others weren’t vaccinated.

“Lively bunch, aren’t they?” I said.

“Honestly, I’m just glad they’re being cordial. For a while, I was sure Papà and Nico would end up killing each other before the wedding.”

“Ohmygod!” The shriek came from behind us.