Luca

38 - Finally mine!

Luca

The church is full. There isn’t a spare seat to be seen.

The church is packed with family, allies, and friends. Men who’d kill for me without blinking. The air hums with anticipation, the low murmur of voices echoing off the high stone arches. Sunlight streams through the stained‑glass windows, painting the aisle in soft colors.

But none of it matters.

Not the music.

Not the crowd.

Not the weight of tradition pressing down on my shoulders.

All that consumes me is the closed set of doors at the back of the church. My entire being aches knowing she’s just beyond them, every heartbeat crashing with the need to see her.

My bride.

My future.

My everything.

I have so much respect for Sofia right now. She could have lied—kept the truth of what her father asked of her from me. But she didn’t. Before the ceremony, Sofia made sure to tell me everything. She wanted to give me the chance to call things off before they got too far.

I told Dray everything as soon as I left the room. I wanted him to know how far my girl would go to prove her loyalty to me. His eyes widened, but I saw something in those blue eyes that said he was impressed.

Now, Dray is standing beside me as my best man. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, unusually quiet. I’m still waiting for him to say something sarcastic, but so far, he’s kept his mouth shut. I grip my hands together, thankful for his silence because I don’t think I could handle Dray mouthing off right now. I’m nervous when I shouldn’t be.

Dad is watching me with a rare softness in his eyes. Mom whispers something in his ear, and he smiles. Amber, sitting on the other side of Dad, grabs his hand while trying not to let her excitement get the better of her. Lydia and Toby are whispering to one another, and the rest of the family is all watching me.

I was almost mowed down by the women in our family earlier. They’d arrived from Italy in time for my wedding, and being the women they are, they pinched my cheeks and hugged me. I had no choice but to endure it. Trust me, they never would have let me leave without hugging me and telling me how proud they were of me. I wondered whether they would have believed the same thing if they had known the truth about this wedding.

Hammer and Jett whisper something crude that makes half the front row laugh. There are a fair few Snakes Henchmen here today. Probably because many of them are related to us by blood or marriage. Some are friends, so I invited them.

Someone else says something that causes laughter to erupt. But I don’t hear a word because my pulse is thundering in my ears.

Then the music changes, and everyone stands.

The doors open, and the world stops.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Sofia steps into the light like something holy — soft, glowing, impossibly beautiful. Her dress floats around her like mist, the long cathedral train gliding behind her. Pearls shimmer across the bodice, catching the sunlight like stars. Her veil trails down her back, delicate and sheer. The front of the veil covers her face, but I can see every expression.

Her eyes are wide, shining with emotion. Her lips tremble in a small, nervous smile. Her cheeks are flushed, her expression soft and hopeful, and so damn pure it makes my chest ache.

She looks like a dream.

My dream.

My throat tightens. My vision blurs for a second — not from tears, but from the sheer force of what I’m feeling. I can’t even put it into words!

Dray leans in slightly. “Breathe, Brother.”

I can’t. Not when she’s walking toward me like she belongs to me. But of course she does.

Not when every step she takes feels like a vow.

I know — with every jagged breath, deep in my bones — that I would set the world ablaze before I let anything touch her. No power exists that could hold me back if she were threatened.

Romano is walking beside Sofia, a smug smile on his face. This stupid bastard thinks he’s got my family where he wants them. But he has no idea the hell that’s coming his way—none whatsoever. He’ll find out soon enough that his plans have gone up in smoke. In half an hour, Sofia will officially be mine. There is nothing I won’t do to protect her. She’s proven her loyalty to me. Once I tell my father what Sofia said earlier, he’ll think twice about taking her life. There is no reason for him to take Sofia from me anymore.

My family watches Sofia with awe, with respect, with something close to love. The older women in my family have already expressed how charming Sofia was when they met her this morning. That alone filled me with pride for the woman who is about to become my wife.

She reaches the halfway point, and her eyes lift to mine.

Everything inside me stills.

The noise fades.

The crowd disappears.

The church, the music, the world — all of it falls away.

There is only her.

My bride.

My Sofia.

The moment she reaches the altar, her hand slips into mine — small, warm, trembling with trust. But before that, Romano leans in, hissing something that makes her cringe. Red-hot fury surges through me; I want to pull my gun and end him right here, right now. Even at the altar, he poisons the air around her!

Cunt!

I pull the anger back, loosening my clenched fists, when Romano walks away to find his seat.

I close my fingers around Sofia’s, steadying her, grounding her, claiming her.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, voice rough.

She blushes, her lashes lowering. “Thank you. You look so handsome, Luca.”

I smile, lift her hand, and press a slow kiss to her knuckles — the same way I had in the vestry, the same way I will a thousand times more.

“You’re mine now,” I murmur softly. “And I’m yours.”

Her breath hitches. “Mine.” She whispers.

The priest begins speaking, but I barely hear him.

All I see is her.

All I feel is her.

All I want is her.

Forever.

As we stand here, ready to bind our lives together, I make a silent promise — one deeper than any vow spoken aloud.

I will protect her.

I will cherish her.

I will fight for her.

I will never let her father touch her again.

I will never let fear darken her eyes.

I will give her a life worth living.

Sofia isn’t marrying into my world; I’m building a new one for her.

And as she looks up at me with trust shining in her eyes, I know one thing with absolute certainty: I will spend the rest of my life proving she’s made the right choice.

The priest’s voice is steady, echoing softly through the church, but I barely hear him. All my attention is on the woman standing beside me — my bride, my Sofia — her hand trembling in mine, her eyes shining beneath her veil.

She’s breathtaking.

Not just beautiful.

Not just elegant.

But radiant — glowing with a quiet strength that makes my chest tighten.

The world could burn down around us right now, and I wouldn’t notice.

The priest clears his throat gently, pulling me back to the moment.

Damn, I should not space out like that! Even in a church, surrounded by security, anything could happen.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Luca Vidal and Sofia Romano…”

Sofia’s fingers tighten around mine.

I squeeze back, grounding her. Grounding myself.

This is real.

This is happening.

She’s becoming mine.

The priest turns to me first.

“Luca, do you take Sofia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to cherish, in good times and in hardship, in loyalty and in truth, for all the days of your life?”

I don’t hesitate.

“I do.”

My voice is low and steady, but inside a storm churns. I am balanced on the edge of an abyss, heart pounding, soul braced for life to shatter and begin anew.

The priest turns to Sofia.

“And Sofia, do you take Luca to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, in good times and in hardship, in loyalty and in truth, for all the days of your life?”

She looks up at me, her eyes soft and full of something I don’t dare name yet.

“I do,” she whispers.

The sound of it nearly brings me to my knees.

“If you could turn to face each other. Now, the exchanging of rings.” The priest smiles, then looks at Dray and nods.

I take Sofia’s hands in mine and smile as we face each other. She giggles loudly enough for everyone to hear, making others smile.

Dray steps forward with the rings, his expression unreadable but his hands steady. He passes the ring I chose for Sofia to me – a platinum band with a white diamond set – and I gently take Sofia’s hand.

Her fingers are small, delicate, trembling.

“Sofia,” I say softly. “With this ring, I give you my loyalty, my protection, and my life.”

Her breath catches as I slide the ring onto her finger.

Sofia takes my ring from Dray, and then she takes my hand — her touch feather‑light, reverent.

“Luca,” she whispers. “With this ring, I give you my trust, my heart, and my future.”

My chest tightens painfully.

She means every word.

The priest smiles. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

My pulse thunders as I look at Sofia, trying to hold in a screech of excitement.

“You may kiss your bride.” The priest tells me.

I lift Sofia’s veil slowly, savoring the moment. Her face is flushed, eyes bright with emotion. Her lips are parted as if she can’t quite catch her breath.

I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing her skin. “Hi, wife,” I murmur.

She lets out a soft laugh — nervous, sweet, perfect. “Hi, husband.”

Then I kiss her. Soft at first, gentle, careful — a promise more than a claim. The world disappears. The church, the people, the noise — all of it fades until there is only her.

My wife.

When I pull back, Sofia is smiling up at me, cheeks pink, eyes shining.

The room erupts in applause.

But all I see is her.

Sofia slips her hand into mine, and together we turn to face the crowd. Hammer whistles loudly. Willow wipes her eyes. Amber claps so hard her bracelet flies off. Dray smirks, but there’s something softer in his eyes.

Dad nods once — approval, pride, something deeper. Mom blows me a kiss, tears falling from her pretty eyes.

Romano’s face remains impassive. He’s neither smiling nor scowling. Marchello, having to pretend he doesn’t know Antonio, stands beside Romano, the only sibling here today. None of Romano’s other children came to wish their sister well.

That didn’t sit well with my father. But like I told him, what the hell does it even matter? So, they didn’t turn up. It’s not like Sofia even knows them. However, Dad was right when he said it wouldn’t look good to our family. They’d want to know why Sofia has no family. I told him to tell people that her family was a bunch of cunts who don’t care about her. Just be honest because it won’t matter come tomorrow.

Sofia looks at me. And in her eyes, I see it — the beginning of something powerful, something fragile, something worth fighting for.

Love.

Or the start of it.

As we walk down the aisle, her arm links with mine, I feel it settle into my bones: She isn’t just my bride, she’s my future.

My purpose.

My heart.

And I will spend the rest of my life proving she’s safe with me.