Page 32 of Dark Breaker

“I used to think the same thing myself.” I sigh. “But suit yourself.”

“Come on, cheer up,” she tells me. “Getting married isn’t the end of the world.”

“Oh I see,” I tell her. “This coming from the friend who just told me she’s never getting married herself.”

“Okay okay, I may not be the best advisor when it comes to marriage,” she admits. “But come on, you have to admit he is kinda hot. In a dark, gangster sort of way.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing, I always thought if I were to marry it would be with a normal guy,” I tell her. “Not someone in the ‘business.’”

She gives me a considering look. “Really? Then maybe you should’ve moved to a different country. It’s kind of hard to get away from the business when your brothers are neck-deep in it. If you marry someone ‘normal,’ then who’s going to protect you if another gangster decides to go after you to get at your brothers?”

I nod. “True. But that’s already something I have to deal with.” Which is one of the reasons I always carry Mace in my pocket.

Michela studies me. “But at least now you’ll have a husband who’s ready to protect you using any means necessary.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I tell her, remembering what Fabio did to my exes in the pool. Not that they didn’t deserve it. “I mean, I just hope he doesn’t someday kill some random dude because they offended me.”

I reach my next class and give Michela a hug before walking inside.

When it’s done, I head to the parking lot and hop on my Vespa to meet Angela. I drive through the streets of downtown Palermo, wondering if the city will seem any different to me after I’m married. Probably not. It’s not like I’ve been waiting my whole life to get married, like some people.

I wonder if my new husband will even allow me outside the house. I really don’t know. I’ve heard some stories about these mafia husbands, and none of them have been all that good. Then again, Fabio probably won’t want to risk tearing up his alliance with my family and the Amatos. Still, he probably wants to torment his new bride, if his behavior on Snapchat is anything to go on. That could mean house confinement, or worse. I try not to think about that, because it would only lead to divorce.

I park my Vespa in front of the bridal shop and wait only for a few minutes outside the building before Massimo pulls up in an Alfa Romeo and drops off Angela. She’s dressed in a gorgeous pink blouse over ripped jeans, and rocking black mary janes.

“Looking dressed to kill as always, Ang!” I tell her.

She gives me a hug, and I feel her baby bump press into me. “No more-so than you.”

“Oh, hush,” I tell her, and we head inside.

We meet with the assistant we booked an appointment with.

“Hello, I’m Lucia!” She holds out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you! Weddings are always such a big day. A life changing day. And I’m happy to guide you through the process of picking the perfect dress for your perfect day!”

I regard her skeptically. “Uh huh.”

Lucia seems a little taken aback, but recovers quickly enough. “Is there anything in particular you had in mind when it comes to the dress?”

“Something without a train would be nice,” I tell her. “And strapless. Has to be strapless.”

Lucia purses her lips, then takes me past the different racks, showing me a bunch of dresses in rapid succession, throwing out odd names like Mermaid, Basque, A-Line, Empire. “If you see anything you like, tell me.”

Most of them are just okay, and nothing really jumps out at me.

“Do you have anything in leather?” I ask.

Lucia arches an eyebrow, and glances at my leather jumpsuit with undisguised disdain. “Sorry.”

It was worth a shot. I decide to ignore the look Lucia just gave me, and turn to Angela. “Anything catch your eye?”

“Sure,” Angela replies. “But it’s your wedding. You have to decide what you want to wear.”

“I was afraid of that,” I tell her.

“I’m only here to provide moral support,” she adds.

I smile. “That, and to tell me whether I look good or not in my chosen dress.”