Chapter 12 - THE WEDDING WHERE NO ONE WAS ALLOWED TO BURY THE PAST
Gia planned her own wedding for exactly three weeks.
Then fired herself.
“I hate brides.”
Dante looked concerned.
“You are bride.”
“Exactly.”
Parker & Vale’s senior producer Marisol took over.
Gia was banned from vendor calls after sending seating chart corrections at 2:14 a.m.
Dante supported ban.
Traitor.
Wedding location:
Not Moretti estate.
There wasn’t one central anymore.
Not luxury hotel.
Not Sicily.
A restored waterfront warehouse in Brooklyn.
Not Red Hook warehouse where Luca nearly died.
Different pier.
Different building.
Still deliberate.
Water.
City.
History without shrine.
One hundred twelve guests.
Gia wanted eighty.
Dante’s family math created crisis.
Compromise.
No press.
No politicians invited for strategic reasons.
No armed visible guards.
Standard discreet venue security.
Marco came as guest for first time.
He hated.
“I have no earpiece.”
“You look human.”
“Unacceptable.”
Luca stood with Dante.
Not best man? Yes, brother as best man after 21 years.
Sofia stood on Gia’s side because they had become close.
Ellen Vale attended.
Rebecca Sloan too.
Gia brought photograph of parents.
Placed on family table.
Not altar.
Her father’s reputation restored but he did not become ghost controlling wedding.
Dante placed photographs of Salvatore and Lucia.
Complicated parents.
They loved.
They lied.
Both.
No rewriting.
Before ceremony, Luca came to Gia.
“I have something.”
She immediately frowned.
“No money.”
“Not money.”
He handed small object.
Dante’s old white handkerchief.
The original?
Gia had kept? Actually Dante gave her first night; she could have washed and kept. But Luca wouldn't have. Better Dante had asked Marco to retrieve from dry cleaner? No. Let's instead Luca gives Michael Parker's old pocket calculator recovered from archive. Hmm wedding gift. Let's make:
Michael's brass mechanical pencil recovered from his notebook case. Luca kept it.
“He used this on San Vito ledgers.”
Gia held.
Her father’s initials.
“Why did you keep?”
“Cowardice.”
Luca answered.
“Then sentiment.”
“Now it belongs to you.”
Gia’s eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
She hugged.
No lingering resentment? Some.
But relationship built.
Luca had testified.
Publicly cleared Michael.
He visited grave.
He apologized to Nora’s stone.
Gia had watched from distance, not joined.
Good.
Then William? wrong story. No.
Ceremony.
Dante waited.
Charcoal suit? Black tux.
He looked expensive.
Of course.
Gia walked alone.
Not given away.
Halfway, Ellen joined only because Gia asked.
Not handoff.
Companionship.
At front, Dante smiled.
No reputation performance.
No empire.
No family chair.
Vows.
Gia first.
“The first thing I ever said to you was rude.”
Laughter.
Dante:
“Very.”
“Do not interrupt vows.”
More laughter.
Gia continued.
“I thought powerful men helped because they expected ownership afterward.”
“Sometimes I was right.”
“I watched you help and then step back.”
“Not always gracefully.”
Dante smiled.
“But you learned.”
“You let me see who you had been.”
“Not just who you wanted me to believe you were.”
Her eyes filled.
“I am marrying you with the past visible.”
“Not buried.”
“Because secrets were what hurt both our families.”
“I promise truth before image.”
“Choice before assumption.”
“And if I tell you not to touch imported silk with sidewalk hands, I expect you to listen.”
Everyone laughed.
Dante’s vows:
“I was raised in a family where protection and control often used same language.”
“I have spent years learning difference.”
He looked at Gia.
“I promise not to decide your fear means I should decide for you.”
“I promise not to make money argument.”
“Not to use family name as authority.”
“Not to confuse keeping you safe with keeping you close.”
“And if you ever ask whether I plan to help or simply stand there looking expensive…”
Gia smiled.
Dante continued.
“I promise to ask what kind of help you want.”
That broke her.
They married.
At reception, Luca toasted.
Not about mafia.
He spoke about Michael Parker.
“I am alive because a man who owed my family nothing broke a window and pulled me out of a fire.”
Gia cried.
Luca continued.
“For years I let fear help bury his name.”
“I cannot undo.”
“But I can say before everyone here: Michael Parker was not a thief.”
“He was braver than I was.”
“He saved my life.”
Applause.
Gia did not know whether she liked public heroizing father.
But this one was overdue.
Then Luca added:
“And Gia is not here because Morettis rescued her.”
Good.
“She is here because she forced us to stop lying.”
Gia smiled.
Better.
Dante raised glass.
At another table, Moretti relatives looked uncomfortable.
Excellent.
Then Marisol approached.
“Problem.”
Gia’s body reacted automatically.
“What?”
“The suspended floral installation shifted.”
Gia stood.
Dante caught her hand.
“Bride.”
“I am still professional.”
Marisol sighed.
“I knew.”
Gia kicked shoes off.
Climbed ladder.
Dante held base.
Marco stared.
“This family never gets normal.”
Sofia answered:
“Normal is overrated.”
The installation fixed.
Guests cheered.
Gia bowed.
Dante looked up.
“Are you going to come down?”
“Are you going to help?”
He held hand.
“Yes.”
She took.
Full circle.
But not ending.
Marriage was beginning.
The real happy part would be whether they could live same principles after music stopped.
They did not have to wonder long.
Three months later, Dante made a decision without Gia.
He signed contract for security renovation at their brownstone after threatening graffiti appeared near Moretti office.
He meant safety.
He forgot ask.
Gia came home to cameras being installed.
Her body went cold.
“Stop.”
Workers froze.
Dante arrived from upstairs.
Saw face.
Immediately understood.
“I messed up.”
“Yes.”
“I can explain.”
“Do not.”
He stopped.
Gia breathed.
“Do you believe threat is real?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
He did.
A former Corrado associate had sent veiled threat.
Police notified.
Security recommendation reasonable.
Problem was decision.
Gia looked.
“What happens now?”
Dante said:
“Work stops.”
“You review.”
“We decide.”
“And if you say no, we find another way.”
No defensiveness.
The cameras came down that afternoon.
They later installed different system jointly.
That was marriage.
Not never repeating old instinct.
Recognizing before instinct became cage.
Gia told him later:
“That mattered more than wedding vows.”
Dante looked offended.
“The vows were excellent.”
“They were.”
“But repair is where promises prove.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
She glared.
May you like
He laughed.
Some habits deserved survival.
