Chapter 121

Matteo paid no mind to Alessio’s words about calling his lawyers and having a meeting scheduled for the next day. His focus was entirely elsewhere—on his bride, his wife. Genevieve was gracefully dancing with her father, who had offered nothing more than a firm handshake when he handed over his daughter to a man he deemed unworthy.

Matteo’s gaze drifted down to Gen’s exposed back, admiring how the delicate fabric of her dress hugged every curve of her body. The moment he saw her walking down the aisle, surrounded by friends, family, and an overwhelming sea of flowers that could have pollinated half of Eastern Europe, his heart had stopped. For five agonizing, endless seconds, it felt like time itself had frozen. When she finally reached his side, he kissed her—right then and there—earning a few amused chuckles and coughs from the onlookers. But he couldn’t have cared less. This was his wedding day. She was his bride. If he wanted to press her against the floral archway, tangle his fingers in her hair, and kiss her until the priest finished speaking, then that’s exactly what he would have done. But he held back.

Instead, Matteo let the ceremony continue while he lost himself in the brightest blue eyes he’d ever known.

Now, those same piercing blue eyes were fixed on him as Genevieve rested her head on her father’s shoulder. He couldn’t hear what her father was whispering, but whatever it was, it brought a tender smile to her lips and made her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.

Alessio nudged Matteo sharply on the shoulder, breaking his gaze. Matteo shot a glare at his cousin.

“You’ve developed a habit of tuning me out when I speak, Cugino,” Alessio growled.

Matteo took a slow sip of his whiskey and rolled his eyes. “And you’ve developed a habit of rambling,” he retorted with a smirk. “It’s my wedding day. Give it a rest.”