Aedan
The truce has come a damn long way, I think, sitting in the backroom in my tuxedo, getting ready for the most important day of my life. It’s strange, ’cause I always assumed the most important day of my life would be when Patty threw me a shred of fatherly affection. But the truth is, as this year has gone on and I’ve spent more time with Livia, Bruno, and even the old Italian monster Claudia, Patty’s become a dot on the horizon in my mind, growing smaller the further time separates us. I have more important things to worry about now, like being the boss of the mob—and marrying the boss of the Italian mob, which will forever unite our families.
I sit on my own, twiddling my thumbs, thinking over this past year and getting damn happy at the thoughts which fill my head, thinking about all the nights shared with Livia. One weekend, we just stayed in her apartment, in bed, fucking and falling deeper and deeper in love. Just lying with her in my arms, stroking her hair, being close to her—that’s enough to make a man dream of a new life. It wasn’t hard, deciding I wanted to marry her. The only hard part was wondering if Claudia would go nuts. But, apparently, killers can be charming, and I’ve succeeded in the impossible: charming an Italian madwoman. That’s unfair, I think. She isn’t so bad.
I get up, walk through the hallways of the Ritz, creeping along until I come to Livia’s room. I press my ear against the door, knowing that it’s bad luck and all that but unable to stop myself. “Livia,” Claudia cries. “You chose it—you really chose it!”
I smile to myself. Livia is wearing one of Claudia’s old dresses as her wedding dress, a peace offering, an offer to close the distance between them. Consider it closed, I think. Damn, though, I wish Claudia wasn’t in there right now. I’d like nothing better than to fuck my fiancé while she’s wearing that dress before we got married. Probably for the best, though...the way me and Livia fuck, passion exploding between us, that dress would end up in shreds.
I go back to my room and wait, and before I know it, Mona is poking her head around the door, little Gwenn in her arms.
“How’re you feeling?” she asks.
“Good,” I tell her. I misjudged Mona; that’s one thing I’m sure about. I used to think of her as a bitter woman who hated me because of what Patty did to her with my mom, but that’s not the truth at all. She’s a funny, quiet, loving woman. If Bruno’s become a father figure, Mona’s become a sort-of mother figure.
“It’s time to go,” she says. “So if you’re going to make a run for it, now’s the time.”
Gwenn lets out a little cry, as though the thought terrifies her.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I say, rising. “Very damn funny.”
I go walk down the aisle, Italians on one side, Irish on the other, and wait. The Catholic priest nods and smiles at me. Bruno’s a damn impressive man; he managed to find an Italian-Irish Catholic priest right here in New York City.
I look over the crowd, one side red- or brown-haired, rugged, Irish in the extreme, the other slick and sharp with jewelry and expensive suits. Two different armies, about to be joined forever by mine and Livia’s love. It’s enough to get even a hard killer like me a little choked up, and I’m not afraid to admit that.
Then, the music starts, and my vision hones down to the door, just the door at the end of the aisle, waiting for Livia.
When she walks through, Bruno on one arm, Claudia on the other—they couldn’t decide on who should do the honors—I can’t help but feel a twinge in my cock. She’s beautiful, angelic, gorgeous, but she also wears this dress like the sexiest minx who’s ever lived. A cream dress, cut just above the knee, giving a man all sorts of thoughts about those fleshy, incredible light brown legs. And she’s going to be my wife, I think, still hardly able to believe how lucky I am. Goddamn, life has its turns.
When she reaches me, the music cuts short. Claudia offers me a small smile, and Bruno passes Livia’s arm into mine. Even now, over a year later, a thrill moves between us when we touch. She giggles, and I think: All the killing, all the pain, all the madness was worth it.
Then, instead of stepping to her side, Bruno steps over to mine. He pats me on the back. “You need a best man, don’t you, son?” he says. “Mind if I do the honors?”
“I...”
But I’m too touched for speech, and Bruno gives me the smile I’ve been waiting for my whole life. A smile which means I belong. A smile which means I have a family. A smile which means I might be, every now and then, more than a killer.
I turn to Livia, take her hands, and whisper: “This is just the beginning, baby.”
She gives me a flirty and yet somehow also fierce smile. “It better be, you Irish dog.”