American Dynasty

E I G H T E E N

Stella woke up the next morning in a trance. She ran her fingers over her lips, still feeling the tingle and warmth of Flynn's kiss.

The night before seemed like a dream: Flynn holding her close as they danced, the kiss...the only thing that affirmed it had not been a happy dream was the suspicious exit Flynn made to talk to that man.

And their conversation. I'm no good for you, he had said. But Stella had been speaking the truth: the deepest, darkest part of her did not give a care in the world. All she wanted was Flynn, but all she could never have was Flynn. He was forbidden, someone from whom she would be forever barred, and the thought of it was slowly eating away at her heart.

Stella ran her fingers through her long hair, wincing when they snagged themselves on a few knots. A loud knock on her door made her jump. "Yes?"

The door opened and Marcella poked her head inside. "Cara mia, I was just checking if you were awake or not. Are you ready to come down for breakfast?"

Stella raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely amiss. Her mother was being unusually pleasant this morning. Her cheeks had a warm glow to them and her eyes were considerably brighter and held a sparkle that Stella had not seen in years.

"Um, yes, just a few minutes," she said, climbing out of her bed.

"Make yourself decent before you come downstairs, Stella," her mother said, not giving her daughter time to ask why before she closed the door behind her and descended down the stairs.

Hurrying into her bathroom, Stella tried to think of all the reasons why her mother was acting so strange. Once she had washed her face she went back into her bedroom where Tilly had entered and was waiting for her by her vanity table. "Any particular reason why my mother wants me to look good for breakfast?" Stella asked, not even bothering to say hello first. Tilly pressed her lips together and remained silent. "She told you not to say anything, didn't she?" Stella asked flatly.

Tilly nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry, Signorina."

Stella sighed and let Tilly style her hair and apply a thin layer of makeup. She dressed Stella in a fancy, airy pink dress, heightening her suspicion. "This is an awfully grand look for breakfast," Stella remarked, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. Tilly smiled tightly before handing Stella a pair of matching high heels and leading her downstairs. "You're really not going to tell me what's going on?" Stella whispered as they reached the bottom steps.

"I'm sworn to secrecy, Signorina. You know your mother-- she loves the dramatics. She desperately wanted this to be a surprise."

"How reassuring," Stella said sarcastically, a worried expression crossing her face. She set her jaw in determination before confidently striding into the dining room.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she took in the scene before her: her mother and father were sitting at the table with Dante, his mother and his father sitting opposite of them.

"Um...good morning?" Stella said uncertainly. Five pairs of eyes turned towards her, all shining with happiness.

"Have a seat, bambina," Beppe said, motioning for Stella to sit down next to him.

Stella slowly pulled the chair out and sat down, all the while looking at Dante. "What is going on here?"

All attention turned to Dante who was blushing furiously. "Well," he began, getting up from his chair. "I've been thinking of you nonstop lately; our relationship, our love-"

"Love?" Stella asked, bewildered.

"Yes, Stella, I love you. Very dearly, always have," Dante admitted. "And I've already gotten your parents' blessing-"

"You have?" Stella demanded, shooting a withering look at Beppe and Marcella. Marcella and Luciana were practically having conniptions; they were so excited. Beppe couldn't stop smiling, he kept exchanging grins with Giovanni. Matteo sat in the corner, his eyes pinned on his sister as he tried to read her emotions. He shot her an are you okay? look, but Stella couldn't even react.

She just kept looking in between her mother, father, Dante's parents and Matteo like she was stuck in an endless loop. Dante produced a small red box from his pocket and dropped down to his knee. "I would like to make you Mrs. Dante Costanzo. Will you marry me?"