7
Arianna
I never thought I’d get married in a dress stolen from a dead woman, but nothing about my life with Dante had ever followed rules.
The gown had been tailored to fit me like it was made for my body. Silk white, low-backed and delicate lace clinging to my spind with a slit so high it whispered sin every time I moved. My hair was pinned up with jeweled combs, lips tinted rose, but I barely looked at the mirror. I couldn’t take my eyes off the window.
Venice shimmered beyond it. The canal beneath our villa mirrored the soft gold of the morning sun. It was too quiet for what was about to happen. It was too quiet for my wedding. Food anyone’s wedding at all.
We’d chosen to marry in secret. Just Dante, me, and a priest paid to be silent about it. No guests. No vows written on fanc
