The proposal again
538 Words
*Chapter 26: The Proposal Again*
We were already married.
But Alessandro said that wasn’t enough.
“Again,” he said one morning at breakfast.
“Again what?” I asked, feeding Selena.
“Marry me. Again. Properly. No guns. No blood. Just us.”
Selena clapped. “Mama Papa wedding!”
Luca choked on his coffee. “Boss, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” Alessandro said.
He wanted a real wedding. White dress. Church. Vows.
I laughed. “We have a kid. We have an empire. Why?”
“Because I never asked you right,” he said. “Not without a gun in the room.”
He was right. Our first wedding was at gunpoint. Literally.
This time, he wanted love. Only love.
He planned everything. In secret.
Luca was the only one who knew.
“Where?” I asked.
“Surprise,” he said.
Three days later, he took us to the beach. Private island. His.
White chairs. Flowers. Hundreds of them.
An altar. A priest. And Selena in a tiny white dress, holding flowers.
My breath stopped.
“Alessandro…”
“Shh,” he said. “Just watch.”
Music started. Selena walked first. Throwing petals.
“Papa! Mama!” she giggled.
Then he took my hand.
No suit. Just black shirt. Sleeves rolled. Scars showing.
“I don’t hide anymore,” he said. “Not from you.”
The priest started. “Do you, Alessandro Moretti, take this woman…”
“I do,” he said. No pause. “I did 3 years ago. I do today. I will tomorrow.”
Then he turned to me.
“Your turn.”
I cried. “I do. I did. I always will.”
He slid a new ring on my finger. Bigger. Cleaner.
“No blood on this one,” he whispered. “Only love.”
Selena clapped. “Kiss! Kiss!”
He kissed me. Soft. For everyone to see.
Not like a boss. Like a husband.
The party was small. Just us. Luca. Dr. Reyes. 10 men.
No media. No photos. Except one.
Selena between us. All three smiling.
That night, he danced with me on the sand.
“No more wars today,” he said.
“No more,” I said.
He stopped dancing. Held my face.
“You made me a man,” he said. “Not a monster.”
“You were always a man,” I said. “You just forgot.”
We stayed on the island 3 days. No phones. No Luca.
Just us and Selena building sandcastles.
On the last night, he said, “Best day of my life.”
“Mining better than taking over New York?” I teased.
“Yeah,” he said. “Because I won you. Not territory.”
Back in Karachi, the word spread.
`Moretti married again. For love.`
Enemies were confused.
How do you fight a man who fights for love, not power?
You don’t.
Selena kept her flower dress for a week.
“Papa Mama wedding,” she told everyone.
Alessandro framed the photo. Our one photo.
On his desk. Where his gun used to be.
Proposal done.
Marriage real now.
And for the first time, Alessandro Moretti looked... peaceful.
- Writer
