Chapter 52: Wedding day{2}
It made Dora a little sad, imagining the wedding she had once thought she would have—something small, real, and filled with warmth—only to have something completely different. The ceremony felt like a distant echo of that dream, one she could no longer recognize.
Vows were said, each word sounding rehearsed and hollow, even as Dora glanced around at the audience. All she saw were cold, apathetic expressions. Her father looked tired, her stepmother detached, her stepbrother Luca present only out of obligation. Even the guests seemed to be there for appearances, their polite smiles barely masking boredom or envy.
Time passed much more slowly than she would have liked. The priest’s voice droned on, solemn and calm, echoing off the high ceiling of the church as though stretching the moment just to test her patience. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she heard the words she had been so desperately waiting for.
"...In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride," the priest said, his tone final and ceremonial.
Dora’s pulse jumped slightly as she waited for Dante to lift her veil. She tried to prepare herself for the kiss—brief, polite, for the cameras—but she was surprised when it wasn’t. The kiss was far more passionate than she expected, lingering too long, his hand brushing the side of her face as if to make a point. Her lashes fluttered involuntarily, and when he finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed red. Dante smiled at her, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, while she struggled to steady her breathing.
The stunned silence that followed was broken suddenly by the sound of a single loud clap. Dora turned her head, startled, and was even more surprised to see that it came from Elder Bellini—the old man she had met before, who now looked beyond delighted as he gazed at her and Dante.
In that moment, as the sound of his applause echoed through the hall, Dora couldn’t stop the small, amused chuckle that escaped her lips. Elder Bellini, she realized, was probably the only person in the entire hall who was genuinely happy that she and Dante had just gotten married. It was written all over his face—pure, unfiltered joy. He placed his cane between his legs and clapped again, this time joined slowly by others until the hall filled with polite applause.
Smiling faintly at the old man, Dora realized she liked him more than she thought she did. At least someone seemed to believe in the illusion that had just taken place.
When the ceremony was finally over, she felt nothing but relief. Relief to leave, to breathe, to be away from the watchful stares and silent judgment. The intensity of the looks she received—especially from other women—was almost unsettling. Some watched her with open resentment, others with jealousy, and Dora had no doubt that more than a few would have liked nothing more than to take her place beside Dante.
She slipped away after the photographs were done, heading to change her clothes. The heavy gown was replaced with something lighter for the reception. Sitting in front of the mirror, Dora caught sight of the ring on her finger—its diamond enormous, catching the light with blinding precision.
"At least the diamond should be worth something," she thought to herself, lips curving into a faint smirk.
She was still staring at the reflection when Llara strode in from the small lounge attached to the dressing room, holding a half-opened bottle of wine.
"Expensive wines!" Llara announced cheerfully, waving the bottle as if it were a prize. "And I fully intend to finish this before we get to the reception."
Dora laughed under her breath, glancing over at her. "I’m ready to finish a bottle myself. Maybe it’ll make the day go by faster than it already does," she sighed, turning back to the mirror. The makeup artist beside her was still dabbing lightly at her face, adding tiny finishing touches that Dora didn’t even notice.
When the makeup artist finally left, closing the door softly behind her, Llara wasted no time pouring them both a glass. For a while, neither of them spoke. They sat in silence, drinking quietly, the tension slowly fading.
"Well?" Llara finally asked, her voice calm but curious, not needing to explain further. Dora knew what she meant instantly.
"It should still take two weeks before I can find out," Dora replied with a sigh, swirling the wine in her glass. Llara nodded, understanding immediately.
"You still need to—" she began, but Dora cut her off mid-sentence.
"I’m aware," she said firmly, taking a deep breath and pushing herself to her feet. She set the glass down, straightened her posture, and plastered a wide, practiced smile on her face. "Let’s just get this over with."
Llara grinned, bumping her lightly on the shoulder. "At least the sex is good," she teased, her tone playfully wicked.
Dora couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that broke across her face. "You’re not wrong," she admitted quietly, laughing despite herself. The sex had been much better than she wanted it to be—a fact she didn’t know how to feel about.
A few minutes later, both women were in the limousine again, having changed into more comfortable but equally elegant outfits. Dora was still adjusting her earrings when she looked up and froze.
"Elisa?" she said softly, surprised. Her sister was already seated in the car, wrapped in a dark coat that hid most of her figure. The color was far too somber for a wedding, matching the gloom in her eyes.
"I figured a wedding reception might put me in a better mood," Elisa said flatly, though her sigh suggested she didn’t really believe it.
Dora nodded quietly, unsure how to respond. Llara, for her part, didn’t say a word—acting as though Elisa wasn’t even there. Her expression wasn’t rude, but it was far from welcoming. She simply poured herself a glass of water and took a slow sip, eyes distant.
"Are you well?" Dora asked tentatively, breaking the silence.
Elisa turned to her with an expression so dull and tired it almost made Dora flinch. "Do I look unwell?" she asked coolly.
That was enough of a cue for Dora to drop the topic entirely. She turned her gaze out the window instead, watching as the limousine wound its way through the city streets.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the reception venue—a grand hall inside one of the city’s most luxurious five-star hotels. The moment they stepped out, Dora was struck by the sight before her. Everything gleamed. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, golden light reflecting off mirrored walls and white lilies arranged in perfect symmetry. The entire place was so breathtakingly beautiful that her mouth parted slightly in awe.
She was relieved to see Dante already there. For reasons she didn’t care to admit, his presence immediately steadied her nerves. As she moved closer to him, he smiled, wrapping an arm casually around her waist before leading her around the hall.
He introduced her to people—dozens of them—names that blurred together almost as soon as she heard them. Some faces were kind, some curious, others cold and calculating behind polite smiles. Dora kept her expression perfectly composed, never letting the soft smile leave her lips.
"I have a job to do," she reminded herself silently. "That’s all I’m here for."
As the evening wore on, she found herself surprisingly relieved that time passed faster than she’d hoped. Soon enough, the last toast was made, the final dance played, and the reception came to an end.
Dora was exhausted but grateful as she finally prepared to go home. She was still speaking with Llara, saying her goodbyes, when her father, Luca, came hurrying toward her.
He looked worried, slightly disheveled, his phone in hand. "Maria’s missing," he said breathlessly. "She got separated from me, and now her phone’s switched off. I’ve been trying to reach her for the past twenty minutes."
Dora frowned, concern flickering through her tired eyes, but before she could respond, she noticed that security was already moving—clearly on the look out for her considering the fact that the reception was over and people were already leaving.
Even Elisa, still in her wheelchair, didn’t seem too alarmed. She was calmly finishing a small dessert plate, spooning bites of chocolate mousse into her mouth without a care in the world. There was enough security for them to have nothing to worry about.
The night had been long and though Dora didn’t yet know it yet, it was far from over.
