Chapter 7

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A knock is at the door, I answer it and a maid stands there awkwardly. "How can I help?" I ask her with a smile in my face, making her more at ease. "Would you like to join Mr Coppola for your evening meal?" She asks with a very soft voice. "Not if he's got company, sorry." I say nearly shutting the door. "He doesn't have company miss. He asked for you." She says with a hand on the door. I unconsciously grew a little smile on my face.

I head downstairs and he is sat at the table, waiting for me. I sit across from him so I can see him. "Hey tesoro." He says giving me a slight smile. "Hey chéri."(darling). A confused look paints his face as he struggles to understand what I have just said. "I suppose that is French for something." He smirks. "Oui." I nod before giggling a bit.

We talk a bit of wedding planning, which was odd because I don't think either of us wanted this marriage. It was necessary though for the mafia. If anything was to happen, I'd be okay, looked after. We discuss that there will not be an engagement party. Just a wedding day. He has arranged someone to take me shopping with bodyguards, I was told they would keep a safe distance, as I will need a wedding dress.

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Days passed and the wedding was in three days. My dress was sorted. Hair and makeup would be happening by professionals. Jewellery was laid out. Nerves were making my stomach ache, so I didn't eat for a few days. I don't know why I was so nervous. It was an arranged marriage, no feelings were involved. I think of the amount of guests at the wedding made me more nervous. Numerous mafias. Enemies. Friends. Family. I had no one to invite.

Wedding planning was done. We sat down to eat and I didn't feel hungry. "Tesoro, you have to eat." He says concerned. "I'm not feeling hungry, I feel ill." I say pushing my plate away. Before I know it, the back of his hand is pushed against my forehead. "You aren't burning up." He says shrugging his shoulders.

My eyes start to well with tears and he notices. "What's wrong?" He asks with a concerned tone. He takes my hand in his. "I won't know anyone at this stupid wedding." I say as tears fall down my face. "You will know me." He smirks whilst his thumb is stroking the top of my hand. A slight giggle falls from my mouth.

He wasn't like the normal, stereotypical mafia leaders. He cared. He made time for his fiancé, that he barely even knew. It was comforting, knowing that he was there when I needed him.

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