Page 2 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

I nodded. After making sure my sister was steady, I took off after the triplets.

Although the first two grandchildren in our family were singles from my eldest brother, my father’s rival and his little sister couldn’t say the same. What was supposed to be their second grandchild turned out to be their second, third, and fourth. Nothing had ever been the same since for that side of the family.

I could never remember the trio’s names, since we mostly shouted various Italian curse words after them because they seemed to have come into their wolf energy and stamina early. I racked my brain as I dashed after them, trying to recall. Billie, Millie, and Lily? That sounded sort of right.

“Oi! Cugine!” I said, managing to catch up with them and grip the still-swinging feather duster. I was treated to three pairs of hazel eyes looking up at me like I was the weird one. “You know there’s no running around inside the house. Outside with you.”

If I hadn’t been so frazzled, maybe I would have remembered to take all their war implements from them. As it were, they ran out with the broom and the personal massager.

“Thank you,” Zia Vedette, their grandmother, panted from the stairs. While wolf shifters generally kept our stamina well into our seventies and my father’s little sister was only sixty, speeding after three versions of chaos incarnate was a little exhausting. “I go back downstairs now.”

“Don’t worry about it, I got it,” I said, rushing past her. Even though my father had lived in America since he was very young, the rest of his siblings had been born in Italy proper and hadn’t immigrated over until after their teens—some even in their late twenties—so their accents were all much thicker than my papa’s, although he still did have one himself. “Could you check on Serafina? I had to leave her in a hurry.”

“Of course, cara. Soon that little bambino will be here.”

“I’m sure not soon enough for her.”

“Hah! Yes. I remember the days. Terrible time for ankles.”

I gave her a chuckle as I thundered down the stairs, but by the time I made it to the bottom, the triplets were nowhere to be seen, and I was sure the hairstyle I’d spent a couple of hours trying to coiffure had already turned frizzy.

Damn it.

“Aaay! Olivia! I was wondering where you disappeared to! Come, help me grab some extra cups from my trunk, will you?”

I didn’t have time to check my reflection in the mirror before one of my aunties caught my wrist and dragged me off. It wasn’t exactly surprising, however, which was the reason I’d chosen wedges instead of heels.

Not that I really owned any heels. I had three pairs of shoes and two of them were practical for in the office.

I didn’t mind, though, nor did it bother me that almost as soon as I was done, one of my much younger cousins tugged at my arm.

“Zia Olivia, where’s the bathroom again?”

“Here, let me take you. I know you have trouble reaching the sink.”

“Thank you!”

Nor did I mind as she and I exited the bathroom with maybe a little more water splashed down our fronts than usual.

“Toilet by the kitchen’s clogged!” an older cousin called as they rushed past us.

Unfortunately, even with five available toilets in the house, it wasn’t enough for a group of nearly a hundred shifters, so instead of grabbing someone, I returned my baby cousin to the expansive yard my parents had been meticulously designing ever since I was a kid and hurried to deal with it myself.

It was about as pleasant as one would imagine, but I sighed in relief when it was done and went outside to grab a glass of wine.

We were already missing two bottles that were supposed to be toward the back of the little display I’d put together. The only reason I noticed is because they were some of the special ones brewed by my great-uncle Giuseppe that were shifter strong.

“Hey,” I murmured to the closest body—my brother, Leandro. “Do you know what happened to the wine?”

He was texting, so he didn’t answer. I jabbed him lightly in the side. As the middle child, Leandro had the predictable habit of acting like he was the main character of our entire family and the rest of us were all supporting characters to serve his plot.

“Huh?”

“Two bottles of Great-Uncle Giuseppe’s wine are missing. Do you know where it went?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. You should ask Rolando. He was the one who helped you set it up, wasn’t he?”

I nodded and resisted pointing out that my youngest brother was the only one of my siblings who had helped me get everything ready for the party. “Any idea where he is?”