Ties of Blood (Book One)

Chapter 8 ~ Gianna

Gianna Rostova

The day of the wedding

Pierre had indeed lived up to his standards. I had seen some of his work at his studio, but seeing the wedding dress he made specifically for me was a whole new experience.

It was lovely and fit like a glove.

I'd obviously made Camilla my bridesmaid and she happily obliged. We decided on purple silk dresses she would share with the other bridesmaids. I didn't have a lot of friends so the other bridesmaids were just friends from school.

I turned on the stool slowly to see Camila getting all emotional.

"Why are you crying" I smile.

"It's just, fuck, I'm so happy for you" She laughed softly like she couldn't believe how stupid she sounded and swiped a hand over her cheek.

I didn't wanna ruin the moment by saying this whole 'marriage' was arranged so I just smiled and hugged her.

After a few seconds she pulled away and took a deep breath, "That's enough of the sappy shit" she says and I smile at her.

Camilla had been with me through thick and thin and I had for her. I had her back and she had mine.

Camilla and I had met at the same university, 'Ridgewood' taking different courses she was a major in law and I was a major in nursing.

Since I shared with my father my dreams of becoming a nurse and taking care of people, I knew for a fact that he hated me that much more than before because my mother was a nurse too. Maybe that's where I got my inspiration from.

"I'm so happy for you though," The corners of her mouth lifted and I did the same.

Camilla soon left to stand with the bridesmaids at the altar and I nervously waited for my dad at the entrance.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The doors opened and he still wasn't here. I couldn't bring myself to move. I stood frozen in my spot before I forced one leg to move and then the other.

The music played but I could hardly hear it over the sound of my heart beating. Embarrassment was coated all over my face as I made my way to the alter to stand by Matteo.

He raise an eyebrow at seeing me alone but otherwise didn't say anything. Part of me was happy at that fact. I didn't know what to say either. I was compelled to ignore my dad until he apologised but it's not like he would notice.

Matteo was in a black suit and tie and his arms placed in front of him while Alessandro, the same guy I had met Matteos mansion and the party a few weeks ago stood behind him as his best man.

The priest gestured of us to hold hands and I placed my hands in Matteo's. His expression was indecipherable.

"We are gathered here today to..." The priest started although I drowned out his voice in my head.

He didn't make it.

The one thing that I had begged him to make it for.

I had given up on birthdays, Christmas, Easter and new years...but my wedding?

Hot tears burned the back of my eyes and a lump formed in my throat.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

I blinked them away.

"Matteo Moretti, do you take Gianna Rostova to be your newly be wedded. To love, and to cherish in sickness and in health?" The priest asked.

Matteo was silent for a brief moment, his jaw clenching in annoyance before finally answering, "I do." Although it sounded more of a scoff than a promise.

The priest then turned to me, "Gianna Rostova, do you take Matteo Morreti to be your newly be wedded. To love, and to cherish in sickness and in health?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart was beating so fast and hard I was sure I bruised my rib cage. I looked at Matteo, he looked like my answer didn't matter either way, by the end of the night I would be married to him despite me liking it or not.

"I do." My answer came out more drained than intended but it was out. I said it.

Three letters. Two words.

The ring barer passed us the rings on a red pillow.

Matteo accepted and held my left wrist and slid the ring on my finger. This should have been a touching moment for any bride and groom but right now, the moment was colder than Antarctica.

I accepted the ring and taking the ring from the ring barer, a small but weak smile in return and pushed it on to Matteos finger.

"You may now kiss the bride." The previsto closed his bible and looked at both of us, suggestively.

Matteo took a small step towards me and muttered something, probably in Italian before grabbing my waist in one hand and the back of my neck in the other and pressed his lips to mine for what was probably half a second but it felt like an eternity.

The placement of his hands burned into my skin. The feel of his lips against mine were embedded into my mind. It was a small kiss, a peck at bets the sparks that flew through me were undeniable.

Matteo and I had kissed.

Granted, it was not willingly but a kiss was a kiss.

The crowd erupted into cheers, clapping and shouting and Matteo looked his usual mixture of bored and annoyed.

The ceremony carried on with no sight of my father whatsoever and when it was time to actually party I excused myself, telling every one I was going to change into something easier to move in.

I closed the door behind me to the dressing room and burst into tears that I had been holding back all night.