Chapter 10 - THE WEDDING THAT WASN’T A WEDDING
Six months later, Leo proposed.
Badly.
He had prepared everything.
A private terrace.
White roses.
Candles.
A string quartet hidden somewhere discreet.
A ring that probably had its own tax bracket.
Then Tessa walked outside wearing pajamas and carrying a bowl of cereal.
Leo panicked.
“Tessa Jenkins, marry me.”
She stopped chewing.
“What?”
Leo stared at her.
She stared at him.
The violinists continued playing.
One looked embarrassed on Leo’s behalf.
Tessa swallowed.
“Was that the proposal?”
“I had a speech.”
“Where is it?”
“I forgot it.”
“Leo Santoro forgot words?”
“Apparently.”
She began laughing.
He looked wounded.
Tessa laughed harder.
“Please stop.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t.”
“No.”
She put the cereal down.
Leo took out the ring.
His hand was shaking.
That stopped her laughter.
This man had faced guns without trembling.
Now he was terrified.
“Tessa.”
His voice became quiet.
“I spent most of my life believing love meant knowing where someone was.”
Her eyes filled.
“Then you taught me love means trusting they can leave.”
He swallowed.
“And hoping they choose to come back.”
Tessa covered her mouth.
“I don’t want to own your time. Your choices. Your body. Your future.”
He looked at her.
“I just want to be invited into them.”
She began crying.
“Damn you.”
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a complaint.”
“Those are frequent.”
She laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
Leo froze.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
Then Tessa looked toward the violinists.
“You can stop hiding.”
Four musicians emerged awkwardly.
Marco appeared from behind a hedge holding champagne.
Evelyn followed.
Daniel rolled onto the terrace in his wheelchair.
Tessa stared.
“You all knew?”
Daniel grinned.
“He practiced the speech seventeen times.”
Leo looked betrayed.
“Daniel.”
“Twenty-one,” Marco corrected.
“Marco.”
“He cried once.”
“I did not.”
Tessa kissed Leo before he could murder anyone.
Their wedding took place three months later.
Small.
Forty guests.
No politicians.
No criminal associates.
No photographers.
Tessa wore ivory.
Leo cried.
He denied this afterward.
Unfortunately, Marco had video.
Their vows were unconventional.
Tessa promised never to pretend Leo’s cooking was edible.
Leo promised never to conduct background checks on men who spoke to her at coffee shops.
Tessa amended:
“Or women.”
Leo frowned.
The guests laughed.
“Why women?”
“Just covering possibilities.”
“Tessa.”
She grinned.
Cute jealousy, she discovered, looked remarkably good on him when stripped of control.
Marriage did not magically fix either of them.
Leo still overreacted.
When Tessa developed a fever, he attempted to summon three specialists.
She permitted one doctor.
When she went shopping alone, he accidentally sent security.
“Accidentally?”
“Administrative misunderstanding.”
“You personally texted Marco.”
“Administrative.”
She made him sleep on the sofa.
For forty-three minutes.
Then she discovered him sitting there reading a book titled Healthy Boundaries in Marriage.
She laughed so loudly she woke half the house.
He looked offended.
“I’m studying.”
“You highlighted it?”
“Yellow means useful.”
“What does red mean?”
“Things I disagree with.”
Half the book was red.
Tessa sat beside him.
“We have work to do.”
“Yes.”
She kissed his cheek.
“But you’re doing it.”
His expression softened.
The greatest change came with her father.
Daniel moved into a smaller residence near the estate.
Evelyn did not resume their marriage.
Too much had happened.
But she visited.
They learned to become something new.
Friends perhaps.
Two old people who had loved each other badly and finally stopped demanding that the past become repairable.
Tessa admired that.
Some things were not meant to return to what they had been.
Sometimes healing meant building something entirely different from the wreckage.
Leo understood this too.
He sold the clubs associated with his father.
Closed illegal operations.
Created a foundation for families affected by Saint Aurelia.
When reporters asked why, Leo gave no interviews.
Tessa knew.
He was trying to change what Santoro meant.
One evening, almost a year after the burgundy dress, Tessa stood in the same foyer.
The clock struck eight.
Leo came downstairs.
He stopped.
Tessa was wearing the dress.
His expression became almost comical.
“No.”
She blinked innocently.
“No?”
“I know that look.”
“What look?”
“You’re planning something.”
She held up two tickets.
“Opera.”
Leo looked horrified.
“You hate opera.”
“Yes.”
“So do I.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Marriage requires shared suffering.”
He stared.
She smiled.
“Cancel the date?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Absolutely not.”
“Take off the dress?”
“Absolutely—”
He stopped himself.
Tessa burst out laughing.
Leo caught her around the waist.
“Cruel woman.”
“You married me.”
“My greatest tactical error.”
“Liar.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her forehead.
They left together.
No guards inside the car.
One security vehicle followed discreetly.
Compromise.
Progress.
Love.
But as their car disappeared beyond the estate gates, a second vehicle waited across the road.
A man inside photographed them.
Then sent the image to an unknown number.
His message contained five words.
THEY THINK VALE WAS FIRST.
May you like
The reply came seconds later.
Then tell them who was.
