Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Not that it mattered.
Those were the details.
To Michel, and to Catherine, his mom and dad were Catrina and Dante. Nothing ever changed that. Her brother didn’t have a complex about a history he really didn’t know, and didn’t seem to care to know. She didn’t know what, if anything, her mother told her brother. That shit wasn’t for Catherine to ask. It really wasn’t her business.
With careful hands, Catrina passed over the small ring with the beautiful cluster of sapphires. Catherine slipped it down her index finger, happy to find it was a perfect fit, really. And for some reason, it kind of felt like the ring had found a good and proper home on her hand.
Catrina smiled at her daughter. “I know, silly, right?”
Catherine shook her head, stepped forward, and hugged her mother without warning. It took Catrina a half of a second before she was hugging Catherine back. “Not silly, Ma. I love you, and it. Thank you.”
Thank you really didn’t seem like enough. The way her mother hugged her tighter said it absolutely was.
“Let’s get you married, Catty,” her mom whispered.
Before the Wedding
Dante POV
“Smile, bello.”
Dante gave his wife a look just as they came to a stop next to the seat where she was meant to sit for the duration of the ceremony. “I am ... aren’t I?”
Catrina smiled softly, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You are. Sometimes, I just like to keep you on your toes.”
He chuckled.
She was always good for that, no doubt about it.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
Really, Dante hadn’t been expecting that question from his wife. Then again, this whole day had seemed like one thing coming at him after another. He really didn’t get time to sit and focus on one thing before another was coming for him. From the moment he woke up, he had to move, move, move. He didn’t even get the chance to really stop and think about what this day meant.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t on his mind—oh, it very much was. He just hadn’t given it the time to properly think on it. Maybe that was better, anyway. His daughter was happy; she was marrying the man of her dreams, and Dante knew that. There was no questioning it, not that he wanted to.
“Of course, I’m ready, Cat,” Dante said.
Catrina nodded. “Mmhmm, not the least bit sad, then?”
Damn this woman.
“You just sit in your chair and look beautiful like you’re meant to. Got it?”
“All right.”
She pressed another fast kiss to his lips, and patted his cheeks with her fingertips in that way of hers. It was what he loved most about his wife, he supposed. No matter what, Catrina was still Catrina at the end of the day. Keeping him on his toes at every turn, and making sure he was the best man he could possibly be. He had to be. After all, he was standing beside the best woman.
Once his wife was settled into her seat, Dante went back and walked his mother to her seat, too. He waited while Cross came in with his mother, and walked her to her seat. The theatrics of a wedding—things that annoyed other people—were the same things that Dante enjoyed about a proper service.
As soon as everyone was where they were supposed to be, Dante headed for the back. All that was left now was for the ceremony to really get started. Checking his watch before he slipped through the back doors of the church, Dante lifted his head as they closed behind him to see the line of women in chiffon staring back at him.
All were smiling, some were whispering.
He stepped past the line of his nieces—all being Catherine’s bridal party—to find his daughter waiting at the end with her back turned to him. With her attention down on the large bouquet in her hands, she didn’t notice him staring. He took that moment, feeling the noise at his back quiet a bit as his attention focused in on her.
His only girl.
His impossibility.
Funny—she was very possible, and she proved that to him time and time again. Stronger than people gave her credit for, and more amazing than anyone would ever possibly know. She was the perfect mixture of her mother and father. God knew she looked just like Catrina, but she had a whole lot of him coloring her up, too.
She made him so fucking proud.
They knocked her down; she got back up ready to fight.
Like his kid should.
Thing was—she wasn’t just a girl anymore, either. Very much a beautiful young woman about to take the biggest steps into a life of her own. And maybe, even up until that moment right then, Dante was still seeing Catherine as his little girl. The one in her pretty clicky shoes and sparkly dresses. The little girl who still held his hand when they walked down the street, and always wanted him to tuck her into bed night after night.