Marrying My Ex's Don Brother After He Made Me the Bridesmaid at My Own Wedding for His First LoveChapter 1

The day before I marry Matteo Romano, my bridal suite is full of flowers, champagne, and men with guns outside the door.

Pretty standard for a Romano wedding.

What isn’t standard is my stylist walking over with a bridesmaid dress.

I look at it.

Then at her.

“Whose is that?”

She looks past me.

Straight at Matteo.

He’s stretched out on the couch checking his phone.

“Just try it on, Val.”

I turn around.

“Why?”

He finally looks up.

“Bianca’s wearing your dress tomorrow.”

I stare at him.

“My wedding dress?”

“Yeah.”

He says it like he changed the flowers.

For a second, nobody says anything.

Then I laugh.

“Okay. Try again.”

“Baby.”

“No, seriously.”

Matteo puts his phone down.

“Don’t make this a whole thing.”

“You gave Bianca Caruso my wedding dress.”

“She asked.”

“And you said yes?”

He gets up and walks over.

“It’s one day.”

I look at him.

“One day of what?”

Matteo sighs.

“She never got this.”

“What?”

“A wedding with me.”

There it is.

Bianca.

The girl Matteo loved before me.

The girl whose family dragged her out of New York when Matteo was still the Romano bastard nobody wanted around.

She came back two months ago.

Apparently two months was all it took.

Matteo reaches for my waist.

I step back.

He notices.

“Val, come on.”

“You’re giving your ex a wedding.”

“I’m giving her a day.”

“With my fiancé.”

“You’re still marrying me.”

I blink.

He actually means it.

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“So what happens tomorrow?”

He rubs the back of his neck.

“Bianca wears the dress. I pick her up. We do the church thing, take some pictures, let her have the moment.”

“The church thing.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And me?”

“You come with us.”

I look down at the bridesmaid dress.

Matteo follows my eyes.

“Just for the ceremony.”

I laugh again.

This time it doesn’t sound funny.

Before I can say anything else, the fitting-room curtain opens.

Bianca Caruso steps out in my wedding gown.

Of course she does.

She smooths a hand over the waist and turns toward the mirror.

Then she sees me.

“Oh.”

Her eyes drop to the bridesmaid dress.

“I thought Matteo told you.”

“He just did.”

Bianca bites her lip.

“If you want me to change, I can.”

She doesn’t move.

Not even an inch.

Matteo walks over to her and adjusts a piece of lace near her shoulder.

Like this is normal.

Like I’m not standing right there.

“She saw the dress at your fitting,” he says. “She loved it.”

I look at him.

“So you gave it to her.”

“For the ceremony.”

“It’s my wedding dress.”

“And tomorrow night, you’ll still be my wife.”

His tone says that should end the conversation.

Bianca looks between us.

“I told him I could get another one.”

Matteo shakes his head.

“There’s no time.”

Then he looks at me.

“And you two are basically the same size.”

I swear to God, that almost gets me.

Seven years.

I have loved Matteo Romano for seven years.

Back when nobody in his family wanted to claim him, I did.

My father backed his first crew. My family opened doors. I got him meetings, money, access to the docks.

I walked away from the man I was supposed to marry because Matteo swore he’d spend the rest of his life making it worth it.

That man was Cassian Romano.

Matteo’s older brother.

The heir.

Now the Don.

And tomorrow, Matteo wants me standing behind his first love while she wears my dress.

Bianca looks at me in the mirror.

“You really don’t mind?”

Matteo answers before I do.

“She doesn’t.”

I meet his eyes.

He smiles.

He’s that sure of me.

That’s the part that finally does it.

“No,” I say.

His shoulders relax.

“See?”

He comes over and kisses my forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

Bianca smiles too.

Small. Sweet. Satisfied.

Matteo picks his phone back up.

“Tomorrow night, it’s just us. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He turns away.

So does Bianca.

I take out my phone.

I haven’t spoken to Cassian Romano in seven years.

I still know his number.

I open the old conversation.

There’s one message at the bottom.

Cassian: If you ever need me, call.

I type before I can think too hard about it.

I’m short a groom. Interested?

The reply comes almost immediately.

Cassian: Where are you?