Page 90 of The Mafia's Septuplets

Guests gather in the main room where afternoon light streams through windows overlooking gardens that stretch toward the ocean. The intimate space feels perfect for promises between people who understand the difference between public ceremony and private commitment.

Harper comes down first, wearing deep blue silk that complements her role as maid-of-honor. Her expression showsprotective satisfaction as she surveys arrangements that meet her standards.

Then Willa appears, and everything else disappears. Her dress flows like captured moonlight in simple lines that emphasize her natural grace. The tiara on her veil sparkles in the overhead light, but her smile outshines everything. She walks toward me carrying white roses that match the flowers throughout our home. Each step brings us closer to promises that will change everything we’ve built together.

The officiant begins when Willa reaches my side. “We gather today to witness the union of two people who’ve already proven their commitment through trials that would destroy most couples.”

Our vows emerge from hearts that have survived violence, betrayal, and medical emergencies that tested everything we thought we knew about strength. I promise partnership without control, protection without dominance, and love that grows stronger through hardship.

Willa’s promises echo trust earned through honesty, family built through choice, and futures that honor the past without being trapped by it. Her voice carries across the room with quiet conviction that makes every word feel permanent.

The officiant smiles. “You may kiss your bride.”

Our kiss tastes like promises and the future we’re choosing despite every obstacle that tried to stop us. Applause fills the room while seven babies add enthusiastic babbling to the celebration.

The reception flows from ceremony into dinner, where conversation mixes languages, backgrounds, and experiencesthat represent our expanded family. Wellington’s executives discuss investments with formerbratvalieutenants, while Dr. Layton dotes on our babies.

Timur raises his glass for the toast. “To Iskander and Willa. May your future hold only the challenges that can be solved with patience and wisdom.”

“To family.” I pull Willa close while our children create joyful chaos around tables meant for adult sophistication. “To love that beats fear, and to building something beautiful from everything we’ve survived.”

As evening settles over the island, guests start leaving with promises to visit soon. The villa returns to domestic peace that feels precious because we fought for it.

“Was it everything you hoped?” Willa settles beside me on the terrace overlooking gardens where security lights create safe spaces in the gathering darkness. “Making it official, surrounded by everyone who matters?”

“Perfect.” I wrap my arms around her while watching the babies explore the lawn with fearless curiosity while our nannies hover at a slight distance. “It was exactly what we needed.”

Slowly, the stars emerge overhead, and our carers gather up our children, insisting we remain outside to savor this time for a bit longer. Inside, baby contentment mixes with adult laughter as May, Shanae, and Treva handle bedtime routines.

Willa turns in my arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words come much easier now that I’ve said them many times. I lean down to kiss her again, slowerand deeper this time, tasting salt air on her lips and complete contentment. “Are you ready for our wedding night?”

Without answering, she deepens the kiss and melts against me before she smiles against my mouth before pulling back to meet my eyes. “I’m so ready, my husband.”