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Page 40 of Mafia King: Matteo (Borrelli Mafia #1)

ALENA

The wedding planner and two staffers arrive by mid-morning.

Her name is Francis, and she’s dressed in a stylish business suit.

Federico delivered us scones, tea, and coffee in the cozy room where Matteo and I made love in front of the fireplace.

The French doors let in the morning light, and Federico stirred the fire that had burned low.

Francis pulls out the floor plans of Matteo’s house, and I’m stunned. It’s much larger than I expected. It’s on an island on the East Coast called Manalapan. The backyard is white sand that runs into the Atlantic Ocean.

“I suggest canopies to shade guests. We’ll use white fold-up chairs, and the patio will be covered with a wooden dance floor. The DJ will sit on a platform and announce the wedding party and, of course, you and your husband. Mr. Borrelli informed me that it will be roughly three hundred people.”

“That many? Well, he has a large family. We’ll need hotel rooms for guests,” I suggest.

“We’re making phone calls. It will be the beginning of Spring Break, but the island isn’t the place for that. The hotels are inland. We’ll hire a shuttle to bring guests over to the house. What is your color preference for the wedding party?”

“As for colors, I guess anything would go with the white sand. What are the popular colors this year?”

“Wine shades go well outside.” She opens a sampler book that contains wedding invitations.

“Oh, I like the marsala. It’s deeper than burgundy. That would look nice in flowers on the invitation and cake. White china plates, white invitations with flowers at the top, and the marsala envelopes would be pretty.” It all unfolds before my eyes.

I can see the event. I want it to be elegant but simple. “Oh, and at the end of the rows of chairs, I’d like white baby’s breath with sage leaves. Can we have that draped over the tables on the patio and in the house where we’ll be dining?”

“Would you like to eat outside? We can arrange that. We have banquet tables that can be decorated.”

“What about rain?”

“We can provide tents.”

I think about the expensive wedding dress and sand in my shoes. “How will I walk on the sand?”

“Many brides use ballet slippers or flip flops, then change into heels for the reception. Do you have a second dress?”

“No, I’m fine with one. The beads and sequins in it are hand-sewn. I can’t imagine wearing anything else.”

“Very well.” Her staff members are taking notes and speaking quietly to one another.

“Mr. Borrelli gave us a list of invitees.” She hands me a list of names. “Please go over it this weekend. We’ll send the invitations out on Monday. Given the short notice, we have to get them out immediately.”

“I understand. My husband didn’t want to wait.” I smile as if he’s impetuous, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Francis proceeds with the tickets, the sign-in table, and a list of DJs. I do not know who the best is, and I’m mentally exhausted now. I’ve not been conditioned to make one hundred decisions in two hours. When Francis and her staffers leave, Federico announces that lunch is served.

Matteo joined me, and we reviewed the list of invitees.

“I don’t know. Izzy is all I have as far as family. I’d love to include Penny from work. I don’t want a huge wedding party.”

“How about my sister, Bianca, being a bridesmaid? She’ll represent my side of the family. She’ll love a shopping spree for new shoes and a dress.”

“Okay. A maid of honor and two bridesmaids. What is your sister like?”

“She’s sweet, like you. You’ll love her.”

I give him a side-eye. “I hope it won’t involve a bottle per person.”

“It will, but I’ll behave. Gio will make sure we’re safe. We’ll take a limo around the city. What would you like for your party?”

“I’m boring. A day at the spa would be nice.”

“That’s tame.” His face relaxes considerably. He’s not been himself since we learned of Chiara’s death. “It makes me happy you won’t be in clubs with men looking at what’s mine.”

“It’s about you, is it?” I tease, giving him a wink. He smiles at me. It makes me happy. He hasn’t smiled in days.

After lunch, I nap, as it will be a long evening, and Matteo disappears into his study.

At four o’clock, the crew shows up. I’m in a robe, and they paint my toenails and fingernails to look wicked. It’s a dark red that looks black but will accompany my dress and the gothic theme.

They wash and style my hair, braiding it before piling it on my head. After two hours of tugging, pulling, and gripping my chair, I look at myself in the mirror they hold before me and see the incredible updo. I look like a movie star.

I’m in awe of what these men and women can accomplish. They are worth every penny and give “glam squad” a new meaning.

Next, they help me with the underwear for the dress.

My hands run down the smooth fabric, which is the softest material I’ve ever felt.

I step into a new shoe brand and find it more comfortable than the name brands I’ve been wearing.

I assume the shoes were made in Italy. The black leather molds to my feet, and I walk without discomfort.

The gown flounces as I walk, and I can see the fabric’s sheen under the bedroom lights.

The assistant pulls out a book and gives me a choice of looks for the evening. I pick a design with gold glitter to complement the blackness of my dress. I love gold and black together.

Matteo has his tux in another room and is dressing to give me the space needed to prepare, and I am relieved he didn’t witness all that I had to go through to look regal. He might think he’s not getting the prettiest fiancée if it weren’t for the help of these experts.

My face takes a half hour, and the finishing touch is applying glitter to one side of my face and gently carrying a few for continuity to the other side of my face.

My eyebrows are more dramatic to match the dark blue and black eyeshadow that tapers upward with an off-white color that makes my eyes look more prominent.

The numerous shades of blue provide continuity and illuminate the blue in my eyes.

I stare into the mirror and don’t recognize myself. I’m a woman who is much prettier than I ever imagined. My skin is flawless, and the mask around my eyes tapers off to the side like a natural mask tied behind my head.

I wish I could create illusions with color, but I’m limited to furniture and accessories. Izzy, on the other hand, knows clothing and fashion. She worked on Broadway and loves to design clothing. I wonder if she’ll recognize me. We’re meeting just inside the doors at eight.

My crew leaves, and Matteo breezes in. He stops walking when his eyes take me in. I twirl on my heels. The gown moves, creating a whoosh sound as I walk.

“You’re incredible. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” He walks to me, takes my hand, and kisses it like we’re in a Shakespeare play or a Medici garden party.

“You look incredible. I love the tux. I have to say your designer is incredible. The outfits are outrageous.”

“Only the best for you, Alena.”

I blush under this intense gaze. He undresses me with his eyes, and if he were to take me now, I’d be willing, but it would ruin my makeup.

“I guess we should be going?”

“If it’s not, we’re leaving anyway. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to cart your firm ass to the bed and tie you up for hours,” his voice deep with desire.

“We’ll make up for it later,” I reply as I take his arm, and Federico helps me into my coat before opening the front door. Gio opens the limo door for me and goes to the passenger side. I assume he’ll escort us into the affair.

The ride in the darkness is appropriate for a masquerade ball. The snow is picking up, and ominous shadows dance on the streets of Long Island as we make our way into the city.

I texted Izzy, telling her I had to update her on my wedding and inquire if they were on time.

My phone beeps.

“Izzy and Dmitry are on time and will meet us inside the doors on the right side of the museum.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

“Did you ever think what would happen had Alexsei been offended by our engagement?”

“I try not to dwell on it. How did you like the wedding planner?”

“Francis is nice. I have no clue what the DJ will sound like. I chose to eat inside instead of on the beach. I can’t imagine having sand in every crevice of my body should the wind blow in the afternoon. We’d be eating sand, which would ruin the surf and turf dinner.”

Matteo chuckles as he pulls my hand into his.

“You’re so thoughtful. See, I could never plan an event. I never thought about that.”

“I’ve had to think of many things since I met you. My brain was in meltdown mode after work. But today, making one hundred decisions with so many options exhausted me.”

“I’m glad you slept. You are ready for a long night.”

“Yes. I hope it all goes well. I’ve never been to an affair like this. Izzy went to the MET, so she popped her cherry.”

Matteo burst out with a hearty laugh.

“Really?” He recovers from his outburst and says, “The Volkovs do get around. I’m happy we have an alliance with them. I’m considering asking Dmitry to look at the tech company I picked up last year.”

“He’s the one to ask.”

We are in line for drop-off at the event, and limos stretch as far as I can see ahead and behind us.

“I think the timing will be perfect when we reach the door.”

“You’re perfect,” he says as he kisses my lips.

It took twenty minutes to reach the door. Matteo helped me out of the limo. Gio escorted us as the driver circled to pick him up later.

We walk through a metal detector, drop our coats in the coat room, and put our top hats back on our heads. I turn and see Izzy. I wave to her as we walk through the crowd.

“You look incredible,” I say as I hug her. Her belly is round and radiant in a yellow dress with a sweetheart neckline. The paisley red print overlays the dark material underneath. She holds a black and gold mask over her eyes, attached to a gold stick.

“Forget about me. Let me see that canary diamond,” Izzy demands as she takes my hand and eyeballs my ring.

“My God, that’s huge! I love it.”

“Thank you,” I said demurely. “It’s heavy, too,” I joked. Then I turned to her husband. “Dmitry,” I hugged him. “This is my fiancé, Matteo.”

The men shake hands, and for a minute, I’m afraid Dmitry will be in enforcer mode. He’s quiet. He’s a reserved man.

I hope this won’t be a war of two alphas all night. They can act like two angry dogs; both are out for blood.

“Izzy, will you be my maid of honor? I have Penny from work and Matteo’s sister as bridesmaids. I hope you can still fly. We’re getting married at Matteo’s place on a Florida beach.”

“Of course, I will be there. I need a dress big enough,” she jokes as she glances at her silent husband. “Dmitry, their wedding is next month.”

“Great. I love Florida.” His cheek moves slightly. “We should head inside. I hear cocktails are flowing.”

“What’s your poison?” Matteo asks.

“Vodka, what else?”

Matteo chuckles at the obvious answer for a Russian. We walk inside and make our way to the bar.

“With the cost of tickets, we could have all flown to Russia for vodka,” Dmitry murmurs, “and it would be better than this shit. But we do what we must, da?”

“Da,” I hear Matteo. I wonder if he can speak Russian.

I turn my attention to Izzy and hold her arm as we walk through the crowd. It’s a carnival atmosphere with gold and black helium balloons covering the ceiling.

A band is playing piano and violins. It’s dark music, dramatic at times, and I envision it setting the tone for a sinister scene in a movie.

“Look at the ice sculptures,” Izzy says as she glances at a banquet table with appetizers. I turn and see the sculpture of a Renaissance couple; he’s wearing a striped shirt and tux, and the woman has a mask around her eyes. There is another sculpture of a jester.

“No expense was spared,” I murmur.

Dmitry hands Izzy a seltzer, and Matteo hands me a dirty martini. Now that the men have a drink in hand, we decide to circle the room. The gowns are incredible, and the air is filled with the aroma of roast beef and perfume.

I feel naked without Vito and worry that no one is armed, and I assume everyone will be on their best behavior.

I overhear Dmitry and Matteo talking about computers. I’m relieved that the two have one common ground, as I’m sure they are both unprepared to navigate the new alliance forced upon them.

* * *