hapter 17
Cosimo De’Medici’s twenty–five–year dream had finally come true.
From the moment he’d seen Noemi in high school, no other woman existed for him. He’d loved her
before Alessio even knew her name.
Back then, she’d lived for ballet, rejecting every lovesick boy who dared approach. He’d been both relieved and devastated–grateful she wasn’t taken, terrified she’d never see him as more than a
friend.
He’d nearly confessed everything senior year.
Then university exams scattered them across Italy, across different worlds.
When he finally found her again, she was already Mrs. Moretti.
That night, he’d drowned himself in scotch, surrounded by empty bottles and shattered dreams.
But he never stopped waiting. Never stopped hoping
Then came news of Alessio’s “death”
He’d wanted to celebrate. Instead, he’d called the Mrs.Conti before his own parents. Through every rejection, every polite refusal, he’d persisted.
And now she was here, in his bed, about to become his wife.
The next morning, they drove to the private dock where his personal supply yacht waited.
The massive vessel served as both cargo ship and floating luxury mall, bringing everything from
groceries to haute couture.
Cosimo kept his arm firmly around her waist as they boarded–not from crowds, since the entire ship catered exclusively to him, but from pure possessive need.
Like a child with a precious toy, terrified someone might snatch her away.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she laughed as his grip tightened.
“Can’t help it. Still can’t believe you’re real.”
Within an hour, he’d bought half the inventory.
Every time her eyes lingered on something–a silk scarf, a bottle of perfume, a piece of jewelry–he’d signal his assistant to pack it up.
“Cosimo, this is insane!” She grabbed his arm. “You can’t keep buying everything I look at!”
“Watch me.” He was already eyeing a display of Hermès bags. “That blue one matches your eyes.”
“I don’t need-”
“You love blue. You hate yellow. Your favorite flowers are peonies, not roses. You prefer white gold to yellow gold. You can’t resist anything with pearls.” He ticked off each preference like a devoted student reciting lessons. “I’ve had twenty–five years to study what makes you happy. Noemi. Let me use that knowledge.”
Her heart clenched at the casual revelation of his decades–long attention to detail. “How do you
know all this?”
“I told you I’ve loved you since we were seventeen” He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Every birthday present you got every piece of jewelry you wore more than once, every time your eyes lit up in a shop window–I noticed. I remembered.”
His sincerity melted her protests. When they finally left, their security team had to make three trips. to load everything.
A week later, they sat in the registrar’s office. The elderly official–the only person on the island authorized to perform marriages–pushed the documents across his desk.
“Sign here, and you’ll officially be engaged under Italian law.”
Cosimo grabbed the pen like an eager schoolboy.
“You first,” he told Noemi, practically vibrating with excitement.
She took the pen, amused by his barely contained energy.
This man who commanded a criminal empire, who made government officials tremble, was bouncing in his seat like a child on Christmas morning.
Chapter 17
As she lowered the pen to sign, he suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“Wait!” His eyes were wild..
“You’re not going to change your mind, right? Once you sign, you can’t back out. Italian marriage law. is binding. The paperwork alone would take years to undo-”
“Cosimo.”
“I mean it. My family’s lawyers are terrifying. They’ll make you go through with it–
“Cosimo!”
“What?”
She cupped his face with her free hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Now let me sign before YOU have
second thoughts.”
“Never.” He released her wrist, watching with hawk–like intensity as she signed her name.
The moment she finished, he snatched the pen and scrawled his signature so fast it was barely legible.
“There!” He turned to the registrar. “It’s official! She can’t escape now!”
The old man chuckled. “In forty years, I’ve never seen a groom so eager.
“Forty years ago, you hadn’t met her.” Cosimo pulled Noemi into his lap, ignoring the registrar’s
amusement. “When can we do the actual ceremony?”
“The ceremony is mostly symbolic now. But we can schedule it for next month.”
“Perfect.” He nuzzled her neck. “I want the world to see her in white, walking toward me. Want to put that ring on her finger in front of everyone.”
Noemi leaned into his embrace, touched by his open adoration.
But as the registrar stamped their documents, a memory flickered:
Another office. Another signature. Another man’s ring heavy on her finger.
2023
Chapter 18
