The Donafrio Donor (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

8: In Which She Sees the SL (and DR)

8: In Which She Sees the Silver Lining (and Diamond Ring)

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 Dedicated to @_JessicaRuiz_ for the cool fan art =) Love it. xo

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It was stupid to feel this way but I did.

You can’t be a wife, Dani. It’s not in your DNA. That’s the real reason you can’t settle down.

Carlo thought my aversion to marriage was because it was to him, but it was more than that. Marriages were like Pyrex dishes – they always broke, no matter how hard you tried to ensure that they didn’t. This particular marriage, on the other hand, was going to end. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real and it shouldn’t have mattered but somehow, it did.

“What am I doing?” I asked myself, squeezing the bouquet of gardenias in my hand so tightly that they wilted.

It seemed like the aisle was the length of the Great Wall of China. Of course, it very nearly was. The chapel Carlo had picked out was near the Teatro and overlooked the busy harbour. It had been built in the eighteenth century by several faceless men and commissioned by a king who was just as unimportant, yet it was one of the most beautiful buildings I’d ever seen.

“What’s the point of a church?” I’d asked Carlo when he’d told me where the ceremony would take place. “You don’t even believe in God.”

He had scowled at me. “Even if this is a marriage of convenience, we are going to do it right, Danielle. My nonna would never have accepted a casual stroll to the court.” His voice became reverent whenever he mentioned his late grandmother and I couldn’t help but find that sweet.

In an alternate universe, I might’ve been jittery. I might’ve tried on the wedding dress and loudly criticised my body while Ana brushed my harsh words off and told me how gorgeous I looked. I might’ve wondered what the groom would be thinking as I glided down the aisle, if he was as nervous as I was. I might’ve worried that my mum would bring Jasmine as her plus one and further humiliate my father. I might’ve worried about the food, the seating arrangements, the wedding song and whether Mickey would be overwhelmed by all the lights and get too excitable.

I wasn’t thinking of any of those things. I couldn’t have cared less about the stupid dress, although I was the first to admit that it was certainly tasteful. As it was, Carlo’s unreadable poker face only served to make me weary as I neared him at the altar. I didn’t have to fret over any wedding guests because Ana, Mickey and Carlo’s bodyguard, a man called Rio, were the only witnesses to our sham of a wedding. They sat in the first pew of the otherwise empty chapel.

“Try to relax,” Carlo said in my ear as soon as I took my place beside him. His hand was on the small of my back in a move that was supposed to be comforting. It wasn’t.