Chapter 11 - THE WEDDING INVITATION
One year later.
New York was covered in a soft blanket of winter snow, but inside the Russo penthouse, the fireplaces roared with warmth.
I sat at the mahogany dining table, carefully addressing thick, cream-colored envelopes with gold calligraphy.
Lily sat beside me, enthusiastically licking the stamps and placing them slightly crooked on the corners.
“Is this one for Uncle Arthur?” Lily asked, holding up an envelope.
“Yes, sweetie,” I smiled. “Make sure that stamp is extra tight. He has to fly in from Florida.”
Dante walked into the dining room, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. He stopped, leaning against the doorframe, just watching us.
I looked up and caught his eye. The intense, brooding mafia boss from two years ago was gone. In his place was a man who looked completely at peace.
He walked over and kissed the top of Lily’s head. “Good job, kiddo.”
Then he leaned down and kissed my lips, slow and deliberate.
“How are the invitations coming?” he asked.
“Almost done,” I said, looking down at the beautiful script.
Emma Collins and Dante Russo request the honor of your presence…
We were getting married in two months. Not a massive, corporate mafia merger like Sofia had planned. A small, private ceremony. Just family. Just the people who mattered.
Dante picked up one of the envelopes.
“You know,” he said casually, “the caterer called today. They asked if we wanted champagne passed around on silver trays during the reception.”
I burst out laughing, playfully swatting his arm. “Don’t you dare.”
May you like
Dante grinned, his eyes twinkling. “I told them absolutely not. The bride has a history of dropping them.”
He pulled me up from the chair and wrapped me in his arms, spinning me around as the snow fell softly against the glass outside.
