HIS FORBIDDEN BRIDE

CHAPTER 15

The invitation came on Monday morning, in a black envelope with gold writing.

_The Romano Foundation Annual Charity Gala._

"Do I have to go?" I asked, holding it like it might bite me.

Maria looked up from her tea. "Yes."

Luca didn't even look up from his laptop. "Yes."

"But — last time, the board wives dinner —"

"Was practice," Maria said. "This is the real game. Two hundred people. Press. Cameras. Every family we do business with. If they accept you here, they accept you everywhere."

I sat down heavily. "What if they don't?"

Luca finally closed his laptop and walked over to me. He took the invitation from my hand and tossed it on the table.

"Then we leave early and I take you for ice cream," he said.

"Luca, I'm serious."

"So am I. I know a place that sells your favorite pistachio."

Maria rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Lila, you wore my bracelet. You faced Sophia at the gate. You can face a gala. And this time, you will not be alone. I will be with you. The whole night."

That made me breathe a little easier.

"What do I wear?"

Maria stood up. "Come. We already ordered it."

---

The dress was red.

Not bright red like my ring. Dark red. Wine red. The kind of red that looks almost black until light hits it.

It had long sleeves, a high neck, but a low back that made me gasp when I saw it in the mirror.

"Maria, I can't— my whole back—"

"Your whole back is beautiful," she said, adjusting the clasp of the bracelet — her bracelet, now mine — on my wrist. "And you have a husband who will stand behind you all night so no one else looks too long."

Luca was waiting downstairs. When I came down, he stopped talking mid-sentence to Marco.

He just stared.

"Luca?" I said, nervous, holding the railing. "Is it too much? I told Maria it was too much—"

He walked up the stairs, two at a time, until he was right in front of me. He didn't touch me. He just looked.

"You," he said quietly, "are going to cause a war tonight."

"What?"

"Because every man there will look at you and I will have to stop myself from punching them."

"Luca!"

Maria coughed loudly from behind. "Luca Antonio Romano, if you punch anyone at my charity gala, I will punch you."

He didn't take his eyes off me. "Worth it."

He held out his hand. I took it, and we went out to the car.

---

The gala was in a hotel ballroom that looked like it was made of light. Chandeliers, gold, cameras flashing outside.

Inside, two hundred people in black and glitter turned when we entered.

Not when Luca entered.

When _we_ entered. Hand in hand.

Whispers started instantly. I felt them like wind.

Maria, on my other side in deep blue, smiled like a queen and whispered, "Chin up. Shoulders back. You are a Romano."

I lifted my chin.

Luca's hand tightened on mine. "Stay close to me for the first hour. Then you can go with my mother."

For the first hour, I did. Luca introduced me — "My wife, Lila Romano" — over and over. Some men shook my hand respectfully. Some women smiled tight smiles.

Valente was there. He saw the bracelet and his mouth tightened, but he bowed his head to Maria and said, "Mrs. Romano, lovely gala."

Maria just smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Valente. My daughter Lila helped me with the guest list."

Valente looked at me, surprised. I smiled sweetly.

"I added more chairs for family," I said.

He walked away fast.

I was starting to think maybe it would be okay. Maybe the bracelet and Sunday soup had changed something.

Then I went to the bathroom.

---

I should have known better than to go alone.

Two women were in there, fixing lipstick. The board wives from the dinner. The ones with the sharp smiles.

They didn't see me at first because I was in the stall.

"—did you hear?" one said. "Sophia told Elena that Luca only married her because her father owes millions. That she trapped him with a pregnancy scare."

My blood went cold.

The other laughed. "Pregnancy? Please. Did you see her? She looks like a child in that dress. No, I heard it's because Romano needed a good girl image after that warehouse fire last year. PR marriage. He'll divorce her in six months."

"Poor thing. She really thinks the bracelet means something. Maria gives bracelets to all of them. Sophia got one too, remember? Before she—"

The door opened. I stepped out.

Both women froze, lipstick in hand.

"Hi," I said, calmly washing my hands. My hands were shaking, but my voice wasn't. "You must be talking about me. I'm Lila. Lila Romano. The village rat in the red dress."

One went red. The other tried to recover.

"Mrs. Romano, we didn't mean—"

"Oh, you did," I said, drying my hands slowly. "But let me help you with your rumor, since you got it wrong."

I turned to face them fully.

"I am not pregnant. If I was, Luca would be telling everyone, not hiding it. He wants five kids. He told me yesterday."

Their eyes went wide.

"And my father does not owe millions. He owed ninety thousand for hospital bills. Which my husband paid because he is a good man. Not because I trapped him. Because I asked him for help and he helped. That's what husbands do."

I stepped closer, smiled.

"And this bracelet?" I held up my wrist. The red stones glittered under the bathroom lights. "Maria did not give one to Sophia. Ask Sophia to show you hers. She can't. Because she never got one. Maria told me it took five years for her mother-in-law to give it to her. She gave it to me after one month. So you can tell Elena that."

Silence.

The door opened again. Maria walked in.

She took one look at my face and the two frozen women and understood everything.

"Ladies," she said, her voice that cold Mrs. Romano voice. "Are you enjoying the gala?"

"Mrs. Romano—"

"Because I was just telling my friend Patricia that I am so happy my daughter Lila is here. She has brought warmth back into our family. And anyone who is family to Lila is family to me. Anyone who is rude to Lila... is not welcome in this house again. Is that clear?"

Both women nodded fast.

"Good. Now go enjoy the champagne. It's expensive."

They fled.

The bathroom was quiet.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and my shoulders dropped.

Maria came to me and took my hands.

"Are you okay?"

"I was," I said, and then my eyes filled. "Until they said the PR marriage thing. Do people really think that? That he married me for PR?"

Maria cupped my face. "Listen to me. When I married Antonio, they said I married him for his money, for his house, for a passport. They said I put a spell on him. People will always make up ugly stories about beautiful things because they cannot understand beautiful things. Do you know what matters?"

"What?"

"What Luca does when no one is watching. Does he bring you tea when you have cramps?"

I sniffled and laughed. "Yes."

"Does he ask your father for chess advice?"

"Yes."

"Then that's your truth. Not their rumor."

She hugged me. Her blue dress against my red one.

"Now come. Let's go show them that PR marriage looks very happy."

We walked out together.

Luca was waiting right outside the bathroom door, leaning against the wall, looking murderous.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked.

"Long enough," he said, his eyes on the two women who were now whispering frantically in the corner. "Who were they?"

"No one," I said quickly. "Maria handled it."

Maria patted his arm. "She handled it herself, Luca. Your wife has claws now."

Luca looked at me, proud and furious at the same time. He took my hand and pulled me to the middle of the ballroom, where music was playing.

"Dance with me," he said.

"I don't know how to dance like this."

"I do."

He put one hand on my lower back — on the bare skin of the dress — and his other hand held mine tight. The warmth of his palm on my back made me shiver.

"Luca, everyone is watching."

"Good," he said, pulling me closer so my head rested on his chest. "Let them watch. Let them see exactly what kind of PR marriage this is."

We danced. Slowly. I was terrible, stepping on his shoes twice, but he didn't care. He just held me like we were alone.

"You heard them?" I whispered against his chest.

"I heard enough," he said, his mouth close to my ear. "Do you want me to throw them out?"

"No."

"Do you want me to buy this hotel and close the gala?"

I laughed despite myself. "No."

"What do you want, my wife?"

I looked up at him. His eyes were dark, serious.

"I want them to stop talking and start dancing. I want cake. And I want to go home and take off these heels because they are killing me."

He smiled. That soft smile that was only for me.

"Done, done, and done."

He spun me — badly, we almost bumped into Valente — and everyone laughed, including us.

By the end of the night, three other wives came to ask me about my dress. One asked about my father. One asked if I could teach her how to make soup.

No one mentioned Sophia.

When we got into the car to go home, my feet were aching, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and I was leaning against Luca, half asleep.

Maria was in the front seat, also tired but happy.

"You did well tonight," she said to me, looking back. "Both of you."

Luca kissed the top of my head, his hand playing with the bracelet on my wrist.

"My wife," he whispered when Maria looked away, "in the red dress that almost caused a war... you were perfect."

"Even though I stepped on you?"

"Especially then."

I smiled and closed my eyes, bracelet shining, his hand warm on mine, going home.

Outside, cameras were still flashing. But inside the car, it was just us. Family.

And no rumor could touch that.