grab our seats before this thing starts without us."
She tugged Dante's arm, pulling him into the house. Dante glanced back, watching as the guy with the clipboard pulled out a walkie-talkie, radioing something to someone, his gaze trailing the two of them. "Pretty sure I've been made."
"Not surprised," Gabriella said. "I'm just hoping they won't make it some big thing."
More men, dressed in black, were positioned around the house, every set of eyes on Dante, watching like a hawk. Too late, he thought. It's a big thing.
Her high heels clicked along the shiny black and white marble, echoing in the vast foyer. A massive Christmas tree stood in front of them, decorated in gold and white, a crystal chandelier hanging above it, sparkling in the lights. It looked like the lobby of a five-star hotel.
The wedding took place in the back, the yard converted into a makeshift chapel with a massive heated tent creating an aisle. Who the fuck throws an outdoor wedding on Christmas Eve? Rows of stark white chairs filled it, most of them already claimed. Dante surveyed their surroundings, spotting men perched in the top windows of the house, giving them an open view of everyone in the backyard. He caught a gleam of something on one of the men, the sunlight hitting metal at just the right angle, giving away the assault rifle.
Snipers.
"Who did you say was getting married?" Dante asked as they headed through an open set of doors, going inside the tent, passing even more security. Gabriella darted for the back row, slipping into the first empty chair she came to.
"A cousin," she answered as Dante sat beside her. Gone was that cool confidence she'd exuded on the drive. Despite the frigid winter air, she was sweating. Hard.
"The bride or groom?"
"Groom, I think."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I don't know. I think the invitation said he was a Brazzi."
"Are we talking literally or figuratively here?" Dante asked. "Is he an actual Brazzi, or is he a member of the Brazzi family?"
Dante wasn't sure if she'd get the distinction, but she grasped the meaning quickly. "I'm pretty sure he's both. Last name Brazzi while also being one of those guys."
Those guys.
The wedding of a made man.
The firepower made sense, as did the excessive security. Weddings were notorious targets. Guards went down. Powerful men turned vulnerable. And there he was, in the thick of it, the exact thing all those men with guns were told to watch out for: the uninvited rival.
Dante slouched in his seat, draping his arm over the back of Gabriella's chair, pulling her to him as he rubbed her arm, warming her up. "Are you close to your grandparents?"
"Yeah."
"How close?"
"Well, my grandmother acts more like my fairy godmother, always trying to fix me so she can, uh, fix me up, but I can do no wrong in my grandfather's eyes. He always said I was his little princess and I'd never need a king in order to rule."
"So he likes you."
"Of course," she said. "Why are you asking?"
"I'm just gauging my chances here," he said, watching as the man from the front porch marched straight down the aisle, aiming for someone sitting in the front row. Dante didn't have to see him to know it would be Gabriella's grandfather.
"Chances of what?"
"Chances of living." Dante watched as the man leaned down, whispering something to Victor. "These guys tend to be the 'shoot first, ask questions never' kind, but seeing how Victor likes you, he might not shoot your plus one on sight."
Gabriella laughed, like he was joking, but Dante meant it. The man raised the clipboard, showing something to Victor as he continued speaking. Dante was nowhere near close enough to hear anything, but he pretty much guessed how that conversation went.
Got a wedding crasher. Think it's one of those Galante pricks. He came with Gabriella Russo, but he wouldn't tell us his name. You want us to put a bullet in him now or wait until they cut the cake?
Victor waved him off, and the man stalked back down the aisle, stopping beside Dante's chair. He leaned down, his voice low as he said, "Mr. Brazzi would like to speak with you after the ceremony," before continuing on.
Cake, it is.
"Maybe we should've stayed home," Gabriella whispered.
"Ah, don't get cold feet now," Dante said, his thumb stroking her shoulder. "Besides, you look beautiful. It would've been a pity not to get to show you off."
"I just... I really hope I don't have to do any running