15. The wedding

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Sofia Zanetti - POV

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Sofia Zanetti - POV

"You look beautiful" my mother spoke as she set my veil over my head. I didn't miss the tear which had rolled down her cheek.

"My Isabella" I tried my best to not let the tears spill, as she wrapped me into a tight embrace.

Today was the day...

The day I would be officially his. Officially known as Sofia Russo, not Sofia Zanetti.

Just like the past two weeks, my stomach was in knots, the constant feeling of wanting to vomit.

We were currently at the back room of the church, waiting for my father to arrive so I could walk down the aisle.

Traditions were tradition so I hadn't seen Lorenzo ever since the day we were invited to his family home. It was bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony. Not that it affected me, like I said before, I preferred it like that.

There were so many traditional aspects to Italian weddings which were to be followed today. So many that I hadn't heard of myself. I had only been to a handful of weddings my entire life, majority when I was a little girl, too small to understand the meaning behind the little things. Most were just superstitions but when you are from a strict Italian family there was no such thing as that.

It was also bad luck for the bride to wear gold jewellery so I had to take off my gold rings, leaving the big fat rock on my ring finger. I stared down at the ring on my hand, the diamond so bright, it was almost as if it was making the whole room shine as the sun glowered over it.

I stared down at my dress, it was perfect. The days spent with the fashion designer was definitely worth it. It was everything I had envisioned.

But I couldn't see my reflection in the mirror today. Another Italian wedding tradition.

I was brought out of my daze, as the large wooden door opened, my father walked in. He wore a dark grey suit, almost black with a emerald tie and a fresh white rose clipped to his breast pocket. His hair was slicked back and his beard trimmed ever so slightly. No one would ever suspect this man to lead a huge illegal syndicate.

Mama stood up, after my father gestured for her to return to the main church hall. My stomach dropped to the ground once again.

"Sofia, you ready?" My father said taking three long steps towards me, pulling out his hand for me to take. I breathed in and out, before taking his hand and standing up straight.

I held my bouquet in the other hand. Fresh white roses with dark green leaves around them. The bouquet was a gift from Lorenzo's family. Another Italian tradition. The groom was meant to pick out the brides flowers and have them sent over the morning of the wedding. I doubt Lorenzo had even bothered and it was most likely Rosalina who had picked it out.

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