Alessia’s Pov
I stood in front of the mirror at Piazza di Soles restroom, smoothing the fabric of my red dress and adjusting the neckline. It was beautiful, yet unfamiliar, and as I stared at my reflection, I hardly recognized myself. My nerves fluttered like restless butterflies in my stomach. One thought looped in my mind like a mantra: This is for Mama.
The low rumble of a car engine outside broke my trance. Peeking through the small window, I spotted a sleek black car waiting by the curb. My heart skipped, and I exhaled shakily, clutching my purse like a lifeline before stepping outside.
The driver opened the door, and I froze for a moment, my breath catching. Then, gathering my courage, I slid into the car.
Inside, Luca—no, Matteo, I reminded myself—sat composed, his dark suit per
