Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(41)

Gianna pulls at my hand as we enter the reception hall. I catch my breath and stare at her and she claps again in excitement.

“Oh my God, Gianna… Did you do all this?”

She nods excitedly. I don't even know what to say. It's amazing. The room is a cavern of tables, with a stage at one end and a band setting up. It's filled with the salty, fatty tang of soup that's being ladled out into individual bowls as we're standing there.

A tall pyramid of champagne glasses is being filled by three waiters on my right, and just beyond that I see a photo booth with a line of kids already queuing up.

It’s really something. All this for me? I can’t believe it.

“How did you do this so fast?”

Gianna rolls her eyes. "So fast? It's not like we haven't been planning this for the last fifteen years, you know!”

I nod and then pull away from Roman’s hands so I can throw my arms around her shoulders. “It's amazing, Gianna. It really is. You are amazing, the best ever!”

She giggles and rolls her eyes while shrugging. “Oh, I know! Believe me I know!”

It practically is a miracle, really. As people walk in, nodding and murmuring to each other, I don't even think they realize the extent of the miracle they’re witnessing. Three days to execute a gathering of this size is practically unimaginable, not to mention the cost involved. And yet, here we are.

Roman starts to drift away from me and I tug him back forcibly. His eyebrows go up in surprise. Alek pops up over his shoulder.

“Receiving line,” I explain.

“Ah yes,” Alek says. When Roman shoots him a questioning look, Alek shrugs. “You just stand there and let everyone congratulate you, one by one. It’s a tradition.”

“It’s a tradition for the bride and groom,” I say meaningfully.

Alek snaps his lapels. “Yes,” he agrees. I want to kick him, and if he doesn’t knock it off, I will. I don’t care who’s here.

“You need to not be here.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re cute when you’re bossy.”

I glance at Roman, looking for some help, and he just shrugs. “I don’t find you all that cute when you’re bossy,” he informs me. “That’s Alek’s thing.”

“I don’t find either of you cute right now!” I hiss urgently. Gianna looks over at me and I pivot discreetly so she can’t read my lips or anything. “Listen,” I say in a low voice, “I think you heard the priest, Alek. Man and wife. MAN. Just the one.”

“Not the deal, Princess.” Alek says in a bored voice like he’s tired of repeating himself.

I try out a kittenish frown at Roman to see if that gets me anywhere, but he just looks confused.

“All right, all right,” Alek sighs loudly. “Do you want me to kiss you too? Is that what it’s going to take?” He comes toward me with his arms out and I automatically flinch away.

“Don’t you dare!” I stage whisper. I can see people are starting to take notice of our weird threesome and I want to run out of the room.

But still he comes closer, stopping with his cheek next to my ear.

“All right, Princess. I’ll wait until later,” he whispers. His breath is hot and fragrant with something like honey. A line of chills race down my arm and I curse my skin for being so obvious. “Don’t forget, now.”

“Just get away from me,” I manage to mumble as he leans back. His eyes sparkle with mischief in a way that Roman’s eyes do not sparkle. Alek is truly enjoying this, I can tell.

Alek shrugs and shakes his head and begins to move away again with Roman falling in right behind him. I tug at Roman’s arm forcefully to make him stand next to me as people behind us form a fairly organized queue.

“Not you!” I hiss. “You stay with me!”

“All right,” he sighs as he reluctantly takes his place beside me. “What is this?”

“You just stand here and smile and let people kiss you,” I tell him. He's never seen a receiving line before? Was he raised in a cave?

“This sounds stupid.”

I shrug one shoulder. Is it? Maybe. “It doesn't matter. This is what we’re doing. Now smile!”

Roman makes a low sound in his throat like a pouty growl but stands next to me anyway. The line of people files in front of us slowly and I clasp everyone's hands over and over again, accepting hug after hug. After a little while, it sort of becomes amusing to watch my tiny, wrinkled aunties and grandmas grabbing giant Roman around the middle and giving him a big, Italian squeezes.

At first, his hands went up in alarm when Auntie Adina pinched his cheeks like he was four years old or something. He shot me a disgruntled look but I just shrugged. He wanted an Italian bride, he gets the whole family treatment. But by the 67th time he seems to have gotten used to it.