Vows in the Dark

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As Enzo glanced outside the glass doors , a look of surprise flickered across his face. His eyes widened, and he called out, "Hey, guys! Look at that!"

The rest of the family, sensing the urgency in his voice, turned toward the direction he was pointing.

Isabella gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God... it's her!" she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. Overcome, she clung tightly to her partner Gabriel's hand, tears welling up in her eyes. Their baby, sensing the tension, started to cry, adding to the mounting anticipation.

Two hours earlier...

"Guys, when are the rest of the family members coming?" Alessio asked, glancing at his watch.

"They're stuck in traffic, but they should be here soon," Enzo replied, reclining in his chair. His voice softened as he stared into the distance. "It's been 18 years, hasn't it?"

Alessio nodded. "Yeah... 18 years," he repeated, the weight of the years evident in his tone.

At that moment, Matteo strolled in, casually joining the group. "So, who booked this place?" he asked, looking around at the elegant, tastefully decorated restaurant.

"Alessandro did," Enzo said with a smirk. "Apparently, this restaurant is notoriously hard to get a reservation at. He came here once with some investors and fell in love with the food, the service, and the design. Figured it'd be the perfect spot for tonight."

"Are both sides of the family coming?" Matteo asked.

"Yes," Alessandro chimed in as he joined the group. "Everyone's on their way."

"What about Alessia?" Matteo inquired, scanning the room.

"She's tied up with a modeling gig," Alessandro replied with a shrug. "She might be late to join us."

As the minutes ticked by, the restaurant slowly filled up. Family members from both sides arrived, greeting each other with nods and handshakes. But there was an unspoken understanding among them—they were no ordinary families. The air crackled with the weight of their shared history, a history that commanded respect.

They were the reigning mafia families of Italy and Spain, coming together after nearly two decades.

When the brothers saw their relatives arriving, they rose from their seats, crossing the room to greet each member personally. Hugs were exchanged, words murmured in Italian and Spanish, their native tongues blending in the air like old melodies.

The reunion had begun, but beneath the smiles and handshakes, tension brewed. After all these years, there were still secrets, unresolved conflicts, and alliances that had been forged—and broken.

And now, something—or someone—was about to stir the waters.