CHAPTER 71: THE WEDDING DAY CHAOS

The morning sun filtered through the grand windows of the estate, casting a golden glow across the marbled floors. It should have been the perfect day, Aria’s perfect day. But beneath the satin and sparkle, tension crackled in the air like a storm waiting to break. Aria sat before the mirror in her bridal suite, the lace of her gown glimmering softly under the chandelier. Her reflection stared back with a mix of disbelief and quiet dread. She was about to marry Luca DeLuca, her captor, her savior, her chaos, her home.

The air was thick with the scent of roses, lilies, and something else, perhaps anticipation or fear. Outside, the estate buzzed with activity. Security guards scanned every corner, the DeLuca crest flew high over the gates, and dignitaries from both families arrived under watchful eyes. The wedding was not just a ceremony but a political statement, a merger of two empires that would reshape the mafia landscape forever.

Aria could not shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong. Her instincts, honed by years in a world where trust was a luxury, screamed caution. She adjusted her veil, her fingers trembling slightly, and tried to focus on the moment. This was her choice, after all, to bind herself to Luca, to embrace the danger and the devotion.

Sonia burst into the room, her heels clicking furiously against the floor. "We have a problem," she announced, clutching her phone tightly, her face pale with urgency.

Aria turned, her pulse quickening. "What kind of problem?"

"The kind that makes Luca want to kill someone," Sonia said grimly. "The caterers were bribed. Someone tried to poison the champagne."

Aria froze, her hands instinctively gripping the edge of the vanity. "What? Who would..."

"Guess," Sonia interrupted, her eyes dark with certainty. "It has Matteo’s name written all over it."

A chill crept up Aria’s spine. Matteo, the brother who once smiled beside Luca in family photos, was now a ghost haunting their every step. He had vanished after his betrayal was exposed, slipping into the shadows with allies and vendettas trailing behind him. Even in absence, his presence lingered, a constant threat to their fragile peace.

"Luca’s handling it," Sonia continued, glancing at her phone again. "He doesn’t want you to worry. He said nothing will ruin this day."

Aria tried to smile, but it trembled at the corners. "Nothing ever goes as planned with us, does it?"

Sonia smirked, adjusting the veil framing Aria’s face. "That’s what makes you two legendary."

The moment of levity faded quickly. As Sonia left, Aria’s mind spiraled. Every sound outside the door felt louder, every footstep heavier. She had learned long ago that peace was fragile in their world. Happiness had a way of drawing blood. She stood, smoothing her gown, and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

The ceremony was set to take place in the Rossi family chapel, a centuries-old building draped in white silk and gold. Hundreds of candles flickered along the pews, their flames dancing like whispers of ghosts. Guests filled the seats: allies, enemies, and curious power players, all there to witness history unfold.

Aria walked through the grand hallway toward the chapel, her heart thundering beneath the gown’s bodice. She clutched her bouquet like a weapon. Every breath felt rehearsed, every smile forced. When she reached the chapel doors, her knees nearly buckled under the weight of expectation.

Then she saw him. Luca stood at the altar, his black suit tailored to perfection, dark eyes locked on her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. For a heartbeat, the world stilled. The tension, the wars, the secrets, none of it mattered. It was just them, the fire and the calm, the promise and the sin.

As she began her walk down the aisle, the crowd faded into a blur. The music swelled, violins carrying her toward a future that terrified and thrilled her in equal measure. Luca’s gaze never wavered. Each step drew her closer, until the space between them vanished entirely.

"You’re late," he whispered with a faint smirk when she reached him.

"I was busy not dying," she murmured back.

His lips twitched, half amusement, half pride.

The priest began the ceremony, his voice solemn and steady. For the first time in a long while, Aria felt that maybe she could have both power and love. Until the doors slammed open.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Guards tensed, hands reaching for hidden weapons. A group of men in dark suits stepped inside, led by someone Aria recognized instantly: Alessio Michel, heir to a rival family and Matteo’s new ally.

"What is the meaning of this?" Luca’s voice thundered across the chapel.

Alessio smiled coldly. "I couldn’t miss such a historic occasion. But I think you forgot to invite a few important guests."

Aria’s grip on Luca’s hand tightened. She could feel the shift in the air, the calm before an explosion.

"You have thirty seconds to leave," Luca growled, stepping slightly in front of Aria.

"Or what?" Alessio’s tone dripped with mockery. "You’ll add another body to your wedding list?"

Before Luca could respond, Alessio snapped his fingers. A figure stepped out from behind him, and Aria’s breath caught. Matteo.

Her heart stopped. He looked different, leaner, colder, his eyes filled with venom. "Congratulations, fratello," Matteo said, his smile razor-sharp. "I wouldn’t miss your downfall for the world."

Luca’s jaw clenched. "You’re trespassing."

"No," Matteo said softly, "I’m reclaiming what’s mine."

The crowd erupted in whispers. Aria could feel the world closing in. Matteo was not here just to interrupt; he was making a statement, a threat that echoed through the chapel.

Security moved in swiftly, surrounding the intruders. Guns were drawn discreetly, the faint metallic clicks echoing under the chapel’s vaulted ceiling. The priest froze mid-sentence, trembling with fear.

Luca’s voice was calm but deadly. "You’ve made your choice, Matteo. Don’t make me finish what you started."

Matteo’s smirk remained unshaken. "You already did. You took everything from me: our father’s trust, the family name, the empire. But I’ll take something from you too."

He turned his gaze to Aria, and the venom in his eyes made her stomach twist. "You should’ve stayed out of this, princess. You don’t belong in our world."

Luca moved so fast that most did not see it happen. One moment he was beside Aria, the next his gun was pressed against Matteo’s chest. "Say her name again," Luca hissed, "and I swear..."

"Luca!" Aria’s voice cracked through the chaos.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him back before the situation spiraled completely. Her voice was firm, her composure unshaken despite the tremor in her chest. "Not here. Not today."

For a moment, no one moved. The tension was unbearable, as if the entire room held its breath. Finally, Matteo laughed quietly, stepping back. "Enjoy your wedding day," he said with icy finality. "It might be your last."

He turned and walked out, leaving silence and unease in his wake. Alessio and his men followed, their departure as bold as their entrance.

The doors closed behind them, but the damage was done. The ceremony had been tainted, the joy shattered. Guests murmured anxiously, some already leaving under the pretense of safety. Aria stood frozen, her mind racing with the implications of Matteo’s return. He was not just a ghost anymore; he was a living threat, one that could unravel everything she and Luca had built.

Luca holstered his weapon and turned back to Aria, his expression softening with visible effort. "Are you okay?"

She exhaled shakily. "Define okay."

He brushed a hand against her cheek, the gesture gentle despite the tension still coiling in his muscles. "We can postpone this," he offered, his voice low and earnest.

Her eyes met his, steady and defiant. "No," she said quietly. "That’s what he wants. We finish this. We get married, Luca. Today."

He studied her for a long moment before nodding, respect flickering in his eyes. "Then let’s finish it."

They turned back to the altar. The priest, pale but professional, cleared his throat and resumed the ceremony. Their vows were spoken softly but with conviction, words that cut through the lingering tension like a blade.

When Luca slid the ring onto her finger, his voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear. "From this day forward, no one touches what’s mine."

Aria’s heart swelled, not from possession, but from the unspoken truth beneath his words. They were not bound by fear anymore, but by fire, a shared resolve that burned brighter than any threat.

When the priest finally declared them husband and wife, the chapel erupted in applause. It was a fragile celebration, laced with shadows, but it was theirs. The guests clapped, some with genuine joy, others with wary glances toward the doors, as if expecting another intrusion.

As Luca kissed her, sealing their vows, Aria knew the chaos was not over. The war was far from done. Matteo’s return had ignited a fuse that would burn through their world, leaving destruction in its wake. But for that one stolen moment, with Luca’s arms wrapped around her and the world watching, she felt untouchable.

Outside the chapel, Matteo lingered in the shadows, his expression unreadable. He lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face before he exhaled a plume of smoke into the evening air. His allies stood nearby, silent but watchful, awaiting his next move.

"This isn’t over," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant sound of celebration.

It never was.