Back then, she’d been twenty–one–never dated, fresh out of university, clueless about marriage. She’d relied entirely on Alessio and the civil servants to guide her through the paperwork.
After signing, she’d felt no joy. Only confusion about her future, her role, her purpose,
Alessio had mistaken her uncertainty for nerves. “Don’t worry,” he’d promised, “I’ll handle everything.”
And he had. From their wedding night to dealing with his mother, he’d been her shield against every difficulty. Too protective, maybe. She’d become dependent, unable to function without his guidance.
When they told her he was dead. grief had paralyzed her. How could she survive without him orchestrating her life?
Back then, Alessio had been her whole world. That’s why she’d wanted to die with him.
Ironically, his “death” forced her independence. She discovered she could survive alone, endure hardship, make her own decisions.
Just when she’d found her strength, she discovered his betrayal.
The shock obliterated whatever love remained. Marrying Cosimo was her escape–a clean break. from the Moretti name, from that whole poisoned life.
She’d planned to be dutiful, nothing more. Romance was for girls who hadn’t been burned.
But watching Cosimo now…
This powerful man, ruler of his own kingdom, was literally vibrating with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. His joy was infectious, impossible to resist.
The past is the past. Alessio’s gone. This man beside me this is my future.
She studied Cosimo’s face as he clutched their marriage certificate. Pure, uncomplicated happiness radiated from him. No schemes, no lies, no hidden agendas, just love.
Twenty–five years he’s loved me. Every detail memorized, every preference noted. When has anyone ever paid such attention to me?
To End My Laurel Twin Madia Hesioden Fake Death Game, I ecume Lits Deadly Lineny’s inde
Chapter 18
The registrar handed them their official marriage certificates. They accepted with thanks, while
Cosimo passed out traditional Italian wedding candies he’d prepared weeks ago–Jordan almonds wrapped in delicate tulle.
“Grazie, grazie!” He couldn’t stop grinning as he shook hands with the staff.
Once outside, he stared at their certificate like a man possessed. His fingers traced their photos obsessively, as if the
image might vanish. The paper felt electric under his touch, sending sparks of joy through his entire body.
The word “MARRIED” burned into his retina. The certificate numbers transformed into fireworks
exploding across his vision. He could swear he heard champagne corks popping, crowds cheering, the whole world celebrating that she was finally, legally, irrevocably HIS.
His thumb found the official seal–raised and textured like rose petals. The rough paper made his skin tingle. his heart hammering so hard he thought it might burst.
Finally, his finger rested on the date: April 20th.
Their wedding day. The beginning of everything.
Twenty–five years.
Twenty–five years of loving her, wanting her, dreaming of this moment.
nd now…
“She’s my wife,” he whispered, testing the words.
“My actual, legal wife.”
He drew a shaky breath, trying to contain the tsunami of emotion. But moisture gathered in his eyes, betraying his overwhelming joy.
My queen
My Noemi.
Mine forever.
“Excuse me?”
kukodbe lake Death Game. Libecame Is Deadly Enemy’s Bride
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They turned to find a young woman with a professional camera. “Sorry to interrupt, but that moment just now–the way you were looking at each other–I couldn’t help capturing it. Consider it a wedding gift.”
She showed them the digital display.
The photo had caught everything:
Cosimo clutching their certificate like a drowning man with a lifeline, tears glistening in his eyes, his whole face radiating pure adoration.
And Noemi–looking at him with tender understanding, her hand resting gently on his arm, finally seeing the depth of his devotion.
“Thank you.” Noemi said softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“My pleasure! Congratulations!” The photographer hurried off.
Later, they’d discover she was Petra Connelly–the Canadian prodigy who shot campaigns for Gucci and was Selena Gomez’s go–to photographer.
Cosimo pulled Noemi close, burying his face in her hair. “I can’t believe you’re really mine.”
1am.” she whispered back. “Completely.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She tilted his face up to meet his eyes. “No more waiting, Cosimo. No more longing. I’m
your wife now.”
Fresh tears welled up. “Say it again.”
“I’m your wife.”
“Again.”
“Your wife. Your queen. Yours.”
He kissed her then, right there on the courthouse steps, pouring twenty five years of love into it. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless.
“Home?” she asked.
Dar’s kolodden Lake Death Gate, I Beer Is Deadly Enemy’s ide
Chapter 16
“Home,” he agreed, lacing their fingers together. “Our home.”
As they walked away hand in hand. Cosimo kept glancing at their certificate, then at her, as if still afraid this might all be a dream.
But it wasn’t. She was his. Finally, eternally his.
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