Love runs deep

chapter 6

He bowed slightly towards me, his movements elegant: "Miss Elena."

I hastily returned the gesture, though my eyes involuntarily drifted to his legs.

When he had entered moments before, his stride had been steady and sure—hardly suggestive of a limp.

As if noticing my gaze, Luca Falcone's eyes softened with a hint of amusement.

"Was Miss Costello looking at my leg?"

My cheeks flushed, and I shifted my gaze away, feeling rather uncomfortable. Luca said, "My leg sustained a minor injury some time ago. Fortunately, Mr Costello engaged the finest doctors, and it's fully recovered now."

His voice was deep and gentle, consistently restrained and courteous. Gradually, I grew accustomed to his manner and began discussing tomorrow's wedding proceedings with him.

Luca mentioned that he had an old family estate in the southern part of the city. Though somewhat remote, the property was spacious, and he had already sent people to clean and prepare it in advance.

As he spoke, Luca's eyes sparkled with excitement: "That will be our home from now on. You can redecorate it however you like."

His expression seemed slightly unnatural, yet he finally drew a black ebony comb from his suit's inner pocket with careful deliberation.

The comb appeared exceptionally exquisite, its handle inlaid with silver filigree depicting a lifelike falcon—the emblem of the Falconi family. It exuded a faint, pleasant scent of sandalwood, clearly a fine piece that had seen many years.

"This comb was left to me by my mother."

"I... I have nothing else to offer you. I hope Miss Costello will not find it beneath her."

A warmth filled my heart as I carefully accepted the wooden comb with thanks, then presented him with a pair of cufflinks I had prepared, engraved with the Costello family crest.

The following morning, I rose at the crack of dawn. Make-up artists and stylists bustled about preparing me. Mother held my hand, offering gentle reminders that the Falconi family were an old-school Sicilian clan with many customs, urging me to exercise patience in all matters.

I merely nodded.

The journey from my room to the door had taken me over twenty years. Today, however, it felt uncommonly long.

Father escorted me to the wedding car, and a procession of black Cadillacs slowly made its way towards the church.

After what seemed an eternity, the church doors swung open.

I heard Marco's voice, tinged with anger: "Don Costello! Why did you set the date without consulting me? Did you intend to make a done deal, marrying Elena into my Moretti family without a second thought?"

A deathly silence fell over the room.

Marco's expression remained defiant as he ignored the stunned reactions around him, continuing unabashedly: "Elena, I never imagined you'd forsake your family's interests just to marry me."

He stood there with an air of superiority, as though his very presence was some immense favour bestowed upon me.

"Never mind. We were childhood sweethearts, after all. Besides me, no one else would dare take you. Come on, no need for a grand entrance today. You can slip in through the side door with me. It'll be just as well."

In Marco's tone, there was a hint of irritation at being defied, and a touch of self-righteous magnanimity.

A deathly silence instantly fell over the crowd.

The guests attending the ceremony were all prominent figures in New York's underworld. They all knew that the groom at today's wedding was Luca of the Falcone family.

Except Marco Moretti. He remained in his own world, waiting for me to come begging at his feet.