1|The Groom's Pick

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Santo's POV

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Santo's POV

"Santo!" Dante said for the tenth time. "The bridal shop going to close by the time we get there."

I ignored him as I concentrated on the goal. I was trying to calculate the amount of force I needed to hit the ball with so that I obtain an accurate hit.

"Santo, do you even want to get married?" my best friend asked me.

"Yes, more than anything in the world," I lied without even trying to sound convincing.

I used the club to hit the ball with just enough force that it landed in the hole.

"Perfect," I said to myself as I felt satisfied with my win.

Golf is one was the most mentally challenging sports in the world. You need to be able to stay calm and focused under pressure. It takes skills that you thought you had but actually don't.

It's no sport for a hothead like me but I love it.

It calms me down when murderous thoughts run through my mind.

Like right now for example.

Dante kept interrupting me and reminding me why I was on the course today.

But thanks to golf, I haven't murdered him as yet.

"I didn't even know you were dating someone," he said confused. "Yet alone engaged."

"Sorry for not telling you about everyone I sleep with," I said as I used my club to drag another ball closer to me.

"I've seen all the women you sleep with," he said as he tried to figure me out. "I've never seen her. How the hell did you end up with the daughter of Enzo Mariano?"

"I guess you haven't seen all the women I sleep with then," I said as I positioned myself to make another hit.

I would tell him that this relationship was all business but Dante was one of those believers.

He believes in love and whatever else bullshit people come up with these days.

Maybe once he thinks I'm in love he'll stop bothering me.

"What is she like?" he asked me. "What made you pick her of all people?"

I sighed as I wiped my forehead with my handkerchief. "Dante, are you here to talk about my romantic life or play golf?"

He's been holding the club since he got here and has not attempted to make one goal.

"I came to talk of course," he shamelessly said. "Now answer the question."

I rolled my eyes. "She's obedient."

He scoffed. "She's obedient? That's the first thing you thought about when describing her? You're marrying her because she's obedient?"

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