Married To The Mafia: Book II

1 - Married To The Mafia.

If you're seeing this book for the first time, please go to my profile to read the Book I which is titled THE MAFIA KIDNAPPED ME. If you've read TMKM before and you're returning, I welcome and THANK YOU!

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It was today. The day she would walk down the aisle and say her vows, the day she would be joined forever with her better half.

Her wedding day.

Pamela King smoothed her strapless princess-cut gown with flower-shaped brocade and adjusted her creamy yellow bridal tiara that was sitting askew on her brown tresses. She smiled sadly at the mirror.

"Here, your flower."

"Thank you, Florence." She turned, took the flower and smiled at the woman, then she blew an audible breath. "I'm nervous, there are a lot of butterflies in my stomach." She placed the wedding bouquet on a chair.

The dirty blonde older woman took Pamela's hands in hers and squeezed it affectionately. "I know. I had felt the same about my own impending nuptials, but don't let the pressure get to you, because the most important thing is that you're doing the right thing." She paused and looked straight into her eyes. "Right?"

Pamela looked away from the knowing look on the woman's face, and smoothed her gown. "Of course I am doing the right thing, I mean, at the end of the day, my happiness is all that matters."

"Yes you're right, but as the nosy woman that I am, and for me to have a clear conscience at the end of it all, I'm going to ask once again, are you sure you want to do this?"

Pamela didn't reply. Was she sure? Yes she was. Of course she was. She loved her husband-to-be with all her heart and it was only fitting that they be joined in holy matrimony. It wasn't enough to be called boyfriend and girlfriend, putting a ring on it was the real deal. Getting married was, according to him, a necessary gesture to show how serious they were with each other.

"I am, Flore. I am very sure."

Then why was sadness gnawing at her insides? Why was she feeling like she was making a huge, huge mistake? Why was she feeling incomplete? Like there was this crucial piece of her that was missing? But in truth, what could be as fulfilling as making a person's wishes come true? She was making the wishes of her husband-to-be come true and that was what mattered.

"Okay then." The older woman placed a comforting touch to her shoulders. "I'll go get Henry to walk you."

She nodded in gratitude and as Florence got to the door of her room and opened it, Pamela noticed what she was wearing.

She frowned. "Why are you in black? It's a wedding, not a funeral." She laughed to take the edge off her nervousness.

"It's a wedding to you, but for me, I'm in mourning." Florence said point-blank.

Pamela's smile disappeared and she turned to look at the mirror as Florence shut the door. She was in mourning? She wasn't surprised. Florence didn't like her fiancé, and she had seized every opportunity to show him just how much.

Was it her fault though? Should she listen to Florence and call off the wedding? Her friends from college would understand – they had literarily given her subtle hints on how much they weren't so keen about her impending nuptials when they had come up to help get her ready – and her wedding planner would certainly not be disappointed as the wedding was a very private one, with only about thirty guests. Maybe she should call off the wedding. Should she?

She had told everyone to leave her alone to think just before Florence came in, and to be honest, all she had been able to come up with was that she wanted to go ahead with this. Why was everyone going against this? It was her life and so she had every right to make her own decisions, therefore she would not call it off.