Chapter 58: CHAOS, CHAMPAGNE, AND CONFESSIONS
The DeLuca villa had never been louder. Music pulsed through the grand hall, champagne bubbled over crystal flutes, and laughter spilled into the marble corridors like champagne foam. For a family known more for blood feuds than balloon arches, this pre-wedding celebration was uncharacteristically festive, chaotic even.
Aria Valencia stood barefoot on the cold marble floor, a shoe dangling from one hand and a glass of prosecco in the other. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, catching the golden glow of the chandeliers. She surveyed the room with a mix of amusement and exasperation, her green eyes scanning the crowd of DeLucas and their allies.
"This," she declared to Sofia, Luca’s cousin and self-appointed maid of honor, "is not what I meant when I said I wanted something low-key."
Sofia grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she adjusted the sapphire necklace at her throat. "Darling, this is low-key. You should have seen Luca’s bachelor party."
Aria narrowed her eyes, sensing trouble. "Do I want to know?"
"No," came Luca’s deep voice from the balcony above. He leaned against the railing, sleeves rolled up, tie undone, looking infuriatingly handsome and far too pleased with himself. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw only added to his effortless charm. "You absolutely do not."
"Tell me," Aria demanded, tilting her head back to glare up at him, her prosecco glass tilting slightly in her hand.
He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Let’s just say Matteo is no longer allowed near tequila. Or fireworks."
Aria groaned, pressing her free hand to her forehead. "Oh God."
"Don’t worry," Sofia said, looping her arm through Aria’s and pulling her toward the center of the room. "You’ll get your revenge. We still have the games."
"Games?" Aria repeated, her suspicion growing as Sofia’s grin widened.
"Pre-wedding tradition," Sofia said innocently, her tone betraying her delight. "Trust me. You’ll love it."
Moments later, Aria found herself seated in a velvet armchair in the center of the grand hall, surrounded by Luca, Matteo, and half the DeLuca inner circle. A tray of shot glasses appeared, gleaming under the chandelier light. Cards were shuffled with a flourish, and before she knew it, she was in the middle of a mafia-style version of Truth or Dare, the kind of game that could only be concocted by a family with too much power and too little restraint.
Matteo clapped his hands, his grin wicked as he surveyed the group. "I’ll go first. Luca."
Luca raised a brow, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. "Truth."
Matteo’s grin widened, and Aria braced herself. "When did you first know you were in love with Aria?"
Luca’s eyes flickered to her, and for a heartbeat, the room fell away. The teasing, the laughter, the ridiculousness of the game all blurred into the background as he considered his answer. Aria felt her pulse quicken, her grip tightening on the prosecco glass.
"The night she threw a vase at my head," he said finally, and the room erupted in laughter.
Aria buried her face in her hands, her cheeks flushing. "I knew you’d never let that go."
He crossed the room in a few strides and crouched beside her chair, tilting her chin up until their eyes met. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was intense, pinning her in place. "I knew because that was the moment I realized you weren’t afraid of me. You hated me, maybe. But you weren’t afraid. And that mattered."
Her breath caught, and suddenly she didn’t care about the game or the crowd or the champagne. She only cared about the man in front of her, the man who had once been her captor and was now the center of her universe. His words settled deep in her chest, warm and heavy, like a promise she hadn’t known she needed.
Matteo, sensing he’d stumbled into something tender, quickly cleared his throat. "Right! Aria’s turn."
"Truth," she said, still a little breathless, her eyes lingering on Luca.
Sofia smirked, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "What’s one thing you haven’t told Luca yet?"
Aria blinked, her mind scrambling for an answer. For a second, she almost said "nothing." But that wasn’t true. There was something, something she hadn’t admitted even to herself until this moment. The weight of the room’s attention pressed against her, but Luca’s steady gaze grounded her.
"I..." She hesitated, glancing at Luca, who was watching her with quiet intensity. "I still check the door locks three times at night. Even here. Even when I know I’m safe."
The room fell silent, the playful energy pausing as her words hung in the air. Luca’s expression softened, and he reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. His touch was warm, reassuring. "Then I’ll check them with you," he said simply.
The game continued, spiraling into chaos as Matteo ended up singing a very drunk rendition of a love song to Luca’s stoic bodyguard, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Sofia dared Aria to text Luca the words I want you now, which she did, her cheeks burning as Luca’s phone buzzed and he shot her a look of pure amusement. But beneath the laughter and teasing, something deeper hummed, a quiet reminder of how far they’d come, from enemies and strangers to partners and lovers.
As the night wore on, the party grew wilder. Guests spilled into the villa’s sprawling gardens, where fairy lights twinkled among the roses and the scent of jasmine hung heavy in the air. Matteo, true to form, passed out on a velvet couch with a tiara inexplicably perched on his head, a champagne flute still clutched in his hand. Aria seized the moment to slip upstairs, craving a breath of quiet amid the chaos.
The villa’s corridors were bathed in moonlight, the marble cool beneath her bare feet. She wandered until she reached the rooftop terrace, where she found Luca leaning against the stone balustrade, a glass of whiskey in hand. The city stretched out before him, a glittering sea of lights and shadows, its beauty rivaling the stars above.
"Running away from your own party?" she teased softly, stepping onto the terrace.
He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face when he saw her. "Just taking a moment."
She walked to his side, the silk of her dress brushing against his trousers as she leaned on the railing beside him. The night air was cool, carrying the faint hum of music from below. "Big day tomorrow," she murmured, her voice soft.
"Biggest of my life." He turned to face her fully, and for once, the iron control in his expression melted into something raw and open. "Do you ever think about how unlikely this is? You and me?"
"All the time," she admitted, her gaze drifting to the city lights. "Sometimes it still feels like a dream. Like I’ll wake up and be back in that tiny apartment, worrying about rent and pretending the mafia doesn’t exist."
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. "And do you regret it? Any of it?"
She met his gaze steadily, her heart steady despite the intensity in his eyes. "Not a single second."
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It was soft and full, the kind of silence that spoke louder than words. Below them, laughter still drifted from the gardens. A string quartet had started playing somewhere, its notes weaving through the night air. But up here, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
Luca set his glass aside and took both her hands in his. "I want to tell you something," he said quietly. "Something I’ve never told anyone."
Her heart thudded, but she nodded. "Okay."
"I was never supposed to be this man." He stared out at the horizon, as if searching for something just beyond reach. "My father wanted Matteo to inherit the empire. He was charming, charismatic, everything I wasn’t. But when things went bad, I stepped in. Not because I wanted power. But because I wanted to protect the people I love."
"Luca..." Her voice was barely a whisper, her chest tight with emotion.
"And then you came into my life. And for the first time, I wanted more than control. I wanted us. A future. Laughter in these halls instead of silence. A family." His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the depth of his feeling, a vulnerability he rarely showed.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "We could have that."
"We will have that," he said firmly, his grip on her hands tightening. "I promise you, Aria. Whatever comes, enemies, betrayals, storms, I will choose you. Every single day."
Her eyes burned as tears threatened, but she blinked them away and pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. "Then promise me one more thing."
"Anything."
"When it’s hard, when we fight, when we doubt, promise me we’ll still talk. That we won’t shut each other out."
"I promise." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, his breath warm against her skin. "I swear it."
The wind picked up, carrying the sounds of music and laughter to where they stood. Aria shivered slightly, and Luca immediately shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, the fabric warm from his body.
"Always taking care of me," she teased, pulling the jacket tighter around her.
"Always," he replied simply, his voice low and sure.
They stayed there for a long time, watching the city lights flicker like distant stars. It wasn’t a dramatic moment. No gunfire, no betrayal, no chaos. Just two people standing on the edge of everything they’d fought for, ready to step into forever together.
But the quiet was short-lived. From below, a shout broke through the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of Matteo’s voice, slurring and indignant. "Where’s the bride? Luca, you can’t steal her before the wedding!"
Aria laughed, the sound bubbling up unbidden. "He’s relentless."
Luca sighed, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "If he organizes a search party, I’m blaming you."
"Let him," she said, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. "Right now, I don’t care about anyone but you."
He tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing along her jaw. And when he kissed her, slow and deep under the silver light of the moon, Aria realized something she hadn’t before.
This wasn’t just a wedding. It wasn’t even just a love story.
It was home.
And for the first time in her life, she knew she’d never run from it again.
The next morning, the villa buzzed with a different kind of energy. Servants scurried through the halls, arranging flowers and polishing silver. The scent of fresh coffee mingled with the perfume of roses, and the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden patterns on the marble floors. Aria stood in front of a full-length mirror, her white dress shimmering like liquid starlight. Sofia fussed with the veil, muttering about pins and symmetry, while Aria’s mother hovered nearby, her eyes misty.
"You look like a dream," her mother said, squeezing her hand.
Aria smiled, her nerves dancing beneath her calm exterior. "Thanks, Mom."
Sofia stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Luca’s going to lose his mind when he sees you."
Aria laughed, but her thoughts were already drifting to the man waiting for her at the altar. She could picture him in his tailored suit, his dark eyes softening as they met hers. The thought steadied her, grounding her in the moment.
Downstairs, the guests were gathering in the villa’s private chapel, its stained-glass windows casting colorful light across the pews. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that comes before a moment that changes everything. Aria took a deep breath, smoothing her dress one last time.
"Ready?" Sofia asked, her usual mischief replaced by a rare sincerity.
Aria nodded. "Ready."
As she stepped into the chapel, the world seemed to pause. The music swelled, the guests turned, and there, at the end of the aisle, was Luca. His gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, it was as if no one else existed. His expression was one of quiet awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real.
The ceremony was a blur of vows and rings, of promises spoken in steady voices despite the emotions swirling beneath. When Luca slid the ring onto her finger, his touch was sure, his eyes never leaving hers. And when they kissed, the chapel erupted in applause, Matteo’s voice rising above the rest with a triumphant whoop.
Later, at the reception, the party spilled back into the grand hall. The tables were laden with food, from delicate canapés to rich tiramisu, and the champagne flowed freely. Matteo, now somewhat recovered, gave a speech that was equal parts heartfelt and absurd, earning laughter and groans in equal measure.
As the night wound down, Aria and Luca stole another moment alone, this time in the garden. The stars were bright above, and the air was warm, carrying the scent of blooming flowers. They danced slowly, her head resting against his shoulder, his arms steady around her.
"This is it," she murmured. "The beginning."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "The beginning of everything."
And as they swayed under the starlit sky, Aria knew that whatever came next, they’d face it together. Always.