AYLA
I stood inside the flower shop, and all I could think about was Cassian Moretti.
Too handsome… too perfect, probably too much of both for his own good.
He'd left with just a kiss.
After he'd made me see what I didn't want to see.
He had looked at me like I was the only woman in the world and would do what he'd done to Dante Moretti over and over again if he had to.
The kiss had been soft, light, and quick.
Yet it had tasted like wired electricity, felt like a commitment, a promise, a vow all in one.
The wedding was in two weeks.
Two weeks and I'd be his. Fully. Wholly.
Two weeks and I'd be married to the man I'd grown to love.
My man.
Two weeks and I'd be Mrs. Moretti.
I still couldn't believe it.
"So you're sure you want to do this?" Millie asked, a little skeptical.
She'd asked me the same question a million times in the past week.
"She should want to do this," Gia smiled, checking out another set of bouquets. "Weddings are beautiful."
