Mia Figlia

Chapter 33 ✔️

PoV Riccardo

I had been standing in front of the mirror for half an hour, tugging at my clothes. Opened and closed the top button of my shirt again and again. My knees felt like pudding and my stomach wanted to regurgitate the little food I had eaten for breakfast. If I was already such a wreck on the day of my engagement party, how was I going to make it through the wedding? An insistent knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in!"

"Il mio padrinho, you should go downstairs now. The guests are waiting." Mario watched me expectantly. I looked in the mirror once more. My anthracite suit fit perfectly, and yet I was plagued by doubts. What if Stella got cold feet and refused to become my wife? What if my mother ruined everything again?

"Riccardo, it is time." I sighed, nodded to my advisor, and followed him down the steps into the entrance hall. Searchingly, I looked around.

"Lucia has dressed Isabella and Francesca is fetching Stella as we speak." Mario was now tugging the sleeves of his suit as well. As consigliere of the family, he placed a lot of value on his appearance. I grinned. My future wife had called the older Italian a nice little uncle when we had talked about her first impressions after arriving at his estate. It was my good fortune that, despite my idiotic behavior, she felt right at home here. At least as long as no one tried to talk her into marrying me. Our wedding, which was in the near future. My stomach tightened again and I looked at my wristwatch. Where was she? Had she fled or had something happened?

Mario next to me gasped audibly and stared in the direction of the stairs. I followed his gaze and swallowed hard. Elegantly, Stella strode down the steps. The lilac dress flattered her body and gave her an innocent, almost elf-like appearance. Elf-like? Where did that nonsense come from? Still, she was breathtaking.

Unable to move, I watched as she walked toward me. My first impulse was to throw her over my shoulder and disappear with her to our room. Instead, I offered her my arm, and she hooked it with a smile.

"You look adorable," I murmured to her. "Please wear dresses more often, especially when we are married." Every man should then see what a gorgeous woman lived by my side. Well, except for my enemies, but they would never get their dirty hands on Stella.

"You know I prefer to wear pants." I saw her smirk out of the corner of my eye before she continued. "Francesca meant that you were able to persuade our daughter to put on a dress."

I had actually managed to do that. However, it was not one those little girls usually put on in this house. Neither velvet, nor lace and certainly not in the colors white, pink or yellow.

"True, though my mother will probably have a heart attack when she sees Isabella." A broad grin spread at the thought. How much more peaceful would my life look after that?

"That would not be much of a loss," Stella murmured. She was right. I took a deep breath, the harpy's threat in the back of my mind. I would sooner shoot her than allow her to take our girl away from us.

Deep down, I hoped that my father's wife was beginning to make a mistake. She had destroyed much in my life, driven by her own hatred. My dad had forced her to marry him, to bear him a son. Because of that, she hated me with every fiber of her body. First it had hurt me, then I had believed that all women were like that. Particularly after the two failed engagements. I sighed softly as we arrived outside the large room where the celebration, our engagement party, was taking place.

"All good things come in threes," I muttered quietly, not even Stella heard me. I would set heaven and hell in motion so that nothing would go wrong this time. I took another deep breath, then we entered.