THE RUSSO BRIDE

The Wedding

Alessia tossed and turned on the queen-sized bed, until the break of dawn. When the first ray of light bypassing the window blind hit her face, she sat up, her heart skipping a beat at how fast the night had travelled.

The Russo mansion, Dante Russo, the forced marriage, and the world she had been dragged into all rushed into her mind.

She pushed herself upright and walked toward the enormous window overlooking the estate.

Outside, the mansion grounds were already alive with activity. Dozens of expensive black vehicles filled the driveway below. Luxury sedans, armored SUVs, and sleek sports cars lined the estate like an exhibition of wealth and power.

Guards stood at every entrance, servants hurried between buildings carrying flowers and decorations. The entire mansion buzzed with preparation.

That was when reality truly struck. Today was truly her wedding but it wasn’t the wedding she had dreamed about as a little girl. It was a wedding she was never given the opportunity to debate or refuse, and yet it was happening today.

She was to marry a man she barely knew, a man whose name alone made people lower their eyes.

Alessia closed her eyes briefly. If her father had never worked for the Russo’s, if he had never taken that ledger, none of this would be happening. Before she could sink deeper into her thoughts, a knock sounded at the door.

Three women entered moments later. Each carried boxes, bags, and makeup cases. "Good morning, Madam," one of them said politely. Another carefully placed what appeared to be a wrapped dress on the bed. "We're here to dress you up."

Alessia folded her arms. "Who sent you?"

The women exchanged uncomfortable glances. She already knew the answer.

Dante.

Of, course it was Dante.

"Never mind," she said before they could answer. "Just do what you came here for."

Relief immediately crossed their faces.

For the next hour, they worked silently. Her hair was washed, styled, and pinned, makeup was applied carefully, jewelry was placed beside her.

Not once did they ask how she felt, perhaps because everyone already knew or perhaps because nobody cared.

Finally, one of the women approached the bed. "The dress, Madam."

The wrapping was carefully removed and Alessia's breath caught.

For several seconds, she couldn't speak.

Months ago, she had stopped outside a luxury bridal boutique while walking home from work. This same dress had been displayed in the front window.

She remembered staring at it for nearly ten minutes. Dreaming and imagining. Wondering what it would be like to wear something so beautiful and now it was sitting directly in front of her.

"How?" she whispered.

The women glanced at one another. "Madam?"

Alessia shook her head. "Nothing."

But the question remained. How did Dante know? How could he possibly know this was the dress she wanted?

The mystery lingered in her mind as they helped her into the gown. When she finally stood before the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

The woman staring back looked beautiful like a bride, like someone about to begin the happiest day of her life. The thought nearly made her laugh.

Then a knock sounded once more. One of the servants entered. "Ma'am, everyone is seated and waiting for you in the garden."

Alessia stared at her reflection one final time and nodded.

There was no reason to resist anymore, the decision had already been made.

The moment she stepped out, soft music drifted into her ears. The mansion gardens had been transformed overnight, white flowers decorated every pathway, crystal lanterns hung from trees, rows of elegant chairs surrounded a long aisle leading toward a floral arch.

Dozens of guests filled the seats, powerful men and important women. Faces she didn't recognize, and people who belonged to Dante's world.

Alessia appeared, and everyone stood. Silence spread through the garden and every eye turned toward her as she began walking.

Step by step, the aisle suddenly felt endless.

Nobody smiled. Everything felt organized and controlled as though this wasn't a wedding.

Then she saw him. Dante.

Standing at the end of the aisle in a perfectly tailored black suit. His expression remained calm and controlled but as their eyes met, Alessia noticed something unexpected.

A flicker of happiness, gone almost instantly yet she had seen it.

This marriage clearly benefited him too and the realization made her chest tighten.

The ceremony passed in a blur. Words were spoken, promises exchanged, and signatures given.

“I do,” she answered after him, her voice more controlled than she expected.

“With the power vested in me, I proclaim you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Her heart dropped. This was the part she didn’t expect.

Making it easier for her, Dante closed the gap between them and pressed a quick kiss by the side of her lips before she could squirm away, and embarrass them both.

“Hmm, that wasn’t half bad,” she thought as he stepped back.

With that, she was officially Alessia Russo.

Reception began shortly afterward inside the mansion and unlike the ceremony, the atmosphere felt surprisingly alive. Laughter echoed through the room, guests chatted freely, wine glasses clinked together as people offered endless toasts, and music played softly in the background.

For the first time all day, the mansion almost felt normal.

Alessia, tired of smiling forcefully, and saying hello to strangers, moved to a corner near the windows.

“The concept of me actually being married,” she whispered to herself, and sighed.

Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any more complicated, her eyes stumbled on him. Not Dante, but a man she never would have thought in a million years she would see in a place like this.

Across the room, moving between guests with a tray of drinks, stood a face she knew better than her own reflection.

Matteo Rossi, her ex-boyfriend.

The man who had broken her heart. A man who claimed he was leaving the country to study abroad. Matteo vanished from her life without looking back.

Yet somehow... He was here, serving drinks at her wedding.

Alessia stared in complete disbelief.

Matteo looked older than what she remembered but it was definitely him. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up and their eyes met.

She saw him fidget lightly, as recognition flashed through his eyes.

Neither of them moved. The world around them seemed to disappear leaving questions flooding in Alessia's mind.

From across the room, was another pair of eyes that noticed everything.

“Dante, we’re all proud of you son. You stepped up and did what you had to do. Well-done!” Don Carlo, the last living elder of the Russo family, tapped him proudly on his back.

He forced a smile, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander back to Alessia, and then to the man she was openly staring at with recognition in her eyes.

“I’ll let you return to your bride. Remember, we treat women respectfully in this family. Congrats again, son.”

Dante waited for him to walk away, before he tapped on his ear plugs.

“Anto?”

“Yes, Mr. Groom. You seem in high spirits,” he laughed playfully.

“What is the name of the catering service that was hired again?”

“uhmm, you really don’t expect me to know that right? That’s all Nonna’s doing.”

“Okay.”

“Is everything—”

Dante tapped on the plug again, ending communication between them. He brought his glass to his lips, and in one swig, downed it.

When he looked up again, Alessia was hurrying away from the room. The server looked like he was about to follow her too.

“Oh hell no,” he muttered under his breath, and dusted his feet.