Page 39 of My Wedding Mafia Style

Lucy’s hand shifts in mine, but she does not pull away.

Nonna’s gaze softens by one nearly invisible degree. “A woman you met tonight saw you more clearly in two hours than most people see you in two years.”

That should be absurd. But Lucy is watching me now, and there is no triumph in her expression. No satisfaction at being handed a key to some guarded part of me.

Then she says, “Maybe he’s not hiding.”

Every head turns to her, including mine. Lucy seems startled to have spoken, but she does not retreat. She looks at Nonna, then at me, then back again.

“Maybe he has deep roots and keeps pretending they’re wings.”

The sentence lands in the room like a dropped glass. No one moves. I cannot. My grandmother’s eyes narrow, not in suspicion, but in interest.

Lucy’s cheeks flush deeper. “Sorry. That sounded better in my head.”

“No,” Sofia says softly. “It sounded beautiful.”

I look at my mother, then back at Lucy. Deep roots pretending they are wings. I do not know what to do with that. With her.

I am accustomed to people noticing what I show them. The money. The control. The name. The reputation. The rumors, when they are foolish enough to believe them. I am accustomed to women liking the danger of me, the polish, the access.

Lucy looks at me and finds a metaphor. Worse, she finds one that feels uncomfortably true.

Nonna smiles. Not the amused smile. Not the approving one she gave Lucy at the reception. This one is slower.

“Very good,” she says.

Lucy looks relieved and alarmed at the same time. “Thank you?”

“You see him.”

Lucy’s hand tightens in mine.

I answer before she has to. “She barely knows me.”

“Sometimes that helps,” Nonna says. “Fewer old excuses in the way.”

Adriana lifts her glass slightly. “That may be the wisest thing anyone has saidon this boat.”

“Yacht,” Isabella whispers.

Adriana ignores her.

Nonna turns her attention back to both of us. “So. This began fake.”

Lucy nods carefully. “Yes.”

“And now?”

Lucy opens her mouth, closes it, then looks at me. I could rescue her. I should. Instead, I wait. Because I want to know.

She takes a small breath. “Now I think it’s becoming a problem.”

Bianca smiles. “That sounds romantic.”

“It sounds alarming,” Lucy says.

“In this family? Same thing,” Isabella adds.