Rosa's wedding day dawned clear and perfect.
Too perfect. I should have known.
The ceremony was at a historic estate in Westchester neutral territory, beautiful grounds, enough space for security to set up a perimeter that would make Fort Knox jealous.
I was four and a half months pregnant now, showing clearly but managing well. The morning sickness had finally subsided, and I felt almost human again.
"You look beautiful," Dante said, watching me get ready. He was already dressed in his tuxedo, looking distinguished and handsome and every inch the don.
"I look pregnant."
"You look like a woman who's about to watch her daughter get married while carrying her third child. That's beautiful."
"You're biased."
"Completely. But also right."
Rosa was in the bridal suite with Maria, Elena, and the DiMarco sisters her bridal party. When I entered, my breath caught.
