When Giovanni Fierro held out his hand to me in the middle of the reception, I still believed I could make it through the rest of the wedding quietly, without drawing anyone’s attention.
I was wrong.
“Dance with me,” he said.
I looked at his hand, then at him.
“No.”
“One dance.”
“Still no.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Then I’m going to count.”
I frowned.
“Count what?”
“How many times you refuse before you finally say yes.”
And then he started.
“One.”
I shook my head.
“Two.”
I ignored him.
“Three.”
By the time he reached seven, I had had enough.
“Fine. One dance.”
His smile widened instantly.
“I knew you’d eventually come to your senses.”
Seconds later, we were standing in the middle of the dance floor.
The orchestra played a slow melody while conversations blended with the soft clinking of glasses and silverware. Waiters moved between elegantly decorated tables, carrying champagne and small plates beneath enormous crystal chandeliers.
But the moment Giovanni and I began to dance, something changed.
People started looking at us.
Giovanni rested one hand lightly against my waist and held my other hand in his.
“You can relax,” he murmured.
“I am relaxed.”
His eyes dropped briefly to my stiff shoulders.
“Of course you are.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Because you’re trying very hard to convince me you’re not nervous.”
I sighed.
“You’re unbearable.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
And then I laughed.
A real laugh.
It had been a long time since laughter had come that easily.
Then my eyes drifted toward the other side of the ballroom.
Tyler.
He was watching me.
And suddenly I understood something I hadn’t wanted to admit.
Giovanni wasn’t the person making me uncomfortable.
Tyler was.
Some small, embarrassing part of me still wanted my ex to see me happy.
I wanted him to look at me and wonder—even for a second—whether leaving me had been a mistake.
The thought embarrassed me almost immediately.
Giovanni noticed where I was looking.
“You’re staring over there again.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
I looked back at him.
“Do you always watch people this closely?”
“Only when it’s useful.”
“Is watching people part of your job?”
He considered the question.
“Real estate. Hotels. Investments. Nothing particularly mysterious.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You somehow made it sound even more mysterious.”
“I could give you the full explanation.”
“Not now.”
“Fair enough.”
The music slowed.
Then stopped.
I gently pulled my hand away.
“Thank you for the dance.”
“My pleasure.”
I thought that was the end of it.
I was wrong about that too.
An elegant older woman was approaching us.
Her silver hair was perfectly styled, and the deep midnight-blue gown she wore caught the chandelier light whenever she moved.
Giovanni saw her coming.
“Aunt Lucia.”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Her gaze moved from Giovanni…
to me…
and finally to our hands.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
“Giovanni, are you going to introduce me to your guest?”
I opened my mouth.
Giovanni spoke first.
“Of course.”
Then he turned toward me.
One look at his expression and I knew something terrible was about to happen.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
He completely ignored me.
“This is Jessica.”
Lucia waited.
Giovanni calmly added:
“My wife.”
My head snapped toward him.
He had actually said it.
His wife.
Lucia remained silent for several seconds.
Then she extended her hand toward me.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Jessica.”
Somehow, I managed to shake it.
“You too.”
Lucia turned back to her nephew.
“How long?”
“Not long at all.”
I nearly choked.
Lucia noticed.
An amused smile appeared on her face.
“Well. That explains a few things.”
Giovanni frowned.
“What things?”
“Nothing, dear.”
Before either of us could ask what she meant, another woman joined us.
She was brunette, elegant, and dressed in a beautiful dark-green gown.
Giovanni sighed the moment he saw her.
“Camilla.”
She stopped in front of us.
“So it’s true?”
“What’s true?”
Camilla looked at me.
Then at Giovanni.
“You got married?”
Giovanni gave a small shrug.
“Apparently.”
Camilla burst out laughing.
I couldn’t help smiling.
“I suppose I should introduce myself,” she said. “Camilla DeLuca.”
“Jessica Hale.”
Giovanni tightened his fingers slightly around mine.
Camilla noticed immediately.
“Hale?”
Giovanni answered before I could.
“She kept her name.”
Camilla nodded as though this made perfect sense.
“Of course she did.”
Then she looked at me with something close to sympathy.
“I’m glad to finally meet someone willing to put up with Giovanni.”
“I’m not entirely sure I agreed to that.”
Giovanni rolled his eyes.
Camilla laughed again.
It didn’t take long for me to understand that there had never been anything romantic between them.
Their families, however, apparently had different ideas.
For months, everyone had been trying to push Giovanni and Camilla together, convinced that joining the two families would be perfect.
Camilla shook her head.
“We’ve known each other since childhood.”
“She exaggerates,” Giovanni said.
“You hid my sheet music when we were twelve.”
“You hid my shoes first.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Camilla smiled.
“I didn’t like you enough to be nice to you yet.”
Lucia sighed dramatically.
“We raised both of you hoping you would eventually become responsible adults.”
“We tried,” Camilla said.
Giovanni nodded.
“Now we hire advisers to settle our arguments.”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
And for the next few minutes, something unexpected happened.
I felt comfortable.
No one asked what I had accomplished with my life.
No one reminded me of my mistakes.
No one looked at me as though I were somehow less important than everyone else in the room.
Then I saw Sophia.
My sister stood several yards away, still wearing her wedding gown.
She was smiling, but there was something in her eyes that told me she had noticed what had just happened.
“I should talk to her,” I told Giovanni.
He nodded.
“Go.”
I took a few steps.
“Jessica.”
I turned back.
His expression had become serious.
“What?”
“Whatever happens tonight, don’t go back to table twelve just because someone convinced you that’s where you belong.”
For a moment, I couldn’t answer.
Then I walked toward my sister.
Sophia immediately grabbed my arm.
“Who is that man?”
“A man I’ve known for approximately ten minutes.”
Her eyes widened.
“You were dancing with Giovanni Fierro.”
“Yes.”
“Do you even know who he is?”
“Apparently everyone does except me.”
Sophia laughed.
“Jessica, he’s a huge name in business.”
“I didn’t come to your wedding to network.”
“I know.”
She glanced behind me.
“But his family owns several companies. Hotels, real estate, investment groups. They fund projects all over the region.”
I shrugged.
“That doesn’t change the dance.”
Sophia studied me.
Then her expression suddenly changed.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Why were you sitting alone at table twelve?”
I glanced toward it.
“Because my name was there.”
Her face went still.
“That isn’t where I seated you.”
“Someone probably moved the place cards.”
“Who?”
I didn’t have to answer.
Both of us looked toward Sandra.
Sophia understood immediately.
“She told me she made a last-minute change.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
Her voice softened.
“I should have checked.”
“Sophia, this is your wedding. You had a thousand other things to worry about.”
“And you’re my sister.”
I looked down.
Our relationship had been complicated for years.
We loved each other, but we had learned to avoid certain subjects.
After my pregnancy, almost everyone in our family had suddenly developed an opinion about how I should live my life.
Sophia had tried to defend me.
But she had still been a student then, and our mother constantly told her she was too young to understand.
Eventually, Sophia learned to avoid confrontation.
And I learned not to expect anyone to defend me.
“I thought you knew where I was sitting,” I said.
Sophia looked genuinely upset.
“I didn’t.”
“I didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You should have told me.”
“I didn’t want to become another problem you had to deal with tonight.”
She took my hand.
“You are not a problem.”
I smiled faintly.
“Mom might disagree.”
“Mom disagrees with almost everything.”
I laughed.
So did she.
For one brief moment, all the tension disappeared.
Then Sophia looked toward Giovanni again.
“Now we need to talk about him.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“He just introduced you as his wife.”
I grimaced.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Her eyes widened.
“What do you mean?”
“It was a joke.”
“You’re serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
Sophia burst out laughing.
“I take back everything I’ve ever said about you being predictable.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That makes it worse.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You alphabetize Lily’s things.”
“Only some of them.”
“Exactly.”
Before we could continue, Daniel approached us.
“Sophia, your father is looking for you.”
“One second.”
My sister leaned toward him.
“Apparently Jessica got married tonight.”
Daniel looked directly at me.
“To Giovanni Fierro?”
My mouth fell open.
“How does everyone know?”
He laughed.
“News travels fast around this crowd.”
Sophia gave me an amused look.
“I want the entire story tomorrow.”
“There is no story.”
“We’ll see.”
Daniel gently took her hand.
“Your grandmother wants a picture.”
Sophia quickly kissed my cheek.
“Don’t leave without telling me.”
“I promise.”
“And I want you at table three.”
“Fine.”
She walked away with Daniel.
For several seconds, I stood there alone.
For the first time since arriving at the reception, I took a deep breath.
Then I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Jessica.”
I knew who it was before I turned around.
Tyler.
He was alone.
“What do you want?”
His eyes briefly moved toward Giovanni.
“Are you really married?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“But he said—”
“It was a joke.”
“With him?”
“Yes.”
He seemed unable to decide how he felt about that.
“Since when do you spend time with people like Giovanni Fierro?”
I almost laughed.
“Since about ten minutes ago.”
His expression tightened.
I knew that look.
Years ago, I would have rushed to reassure him.
I would have explained every detail.
I would have done whatever I could to keep him from being upset with me.
This time, I didn’t.
Eventually, he spoke.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”
“You meant it when you said it.”
He looked down.
“I was angry.”
“Why?”
He remained silent.
“I don’t know.”
I nodded slowly.
“Then maybe you should figure that out.”
He looked at me.
“You still think I’m a bad person.”
“No.”
I paused.
“But I’m not going to carry your frustration for you anymore.”
He said nothing.
So I continued.
“We made different choices, Tyler. Now we have to live with them. But Lily cannot become the battlefield for whatever problems we still have with each other. She deserves better than that.”
Something changed in his expression.
“You’re right.”
“I’m not trying to be right. I just want things to be clear.”
He nodded.
“I’ll call Sunday about Lily.”
“As planned. Six o’clock.”
“Okay.”
Then he walked away.
I watched him go.
I hadn’t won anything.
I hadn’t gotten revenge.
I hadn’t made him regret leaving me.
And for the first time, I realized I didn’t care.
I had simply drawn a boundary.
And somehow, that felt better than winning.
“That was good.”
I turned around.
Giovanni stood behind me holding two glasses of sparkling water.
“Were you listening?”
“I was trying not to.”
“And?”
“I failed.”
I accepted the glass he offered me.
“Thanks.”
He leaned casually against a nearby column.
“Are you going to table three?”
“My sister has officially ordered me to.”
“Then you should probably listen to her.”
I smiled.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you planning to keep introducing me as your wife?”
Giovanni actually considered the question.
“Depends.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“On what?”
“How my family reacts.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze moved toward Lucia, who was speaking with several guests.
Then toward Camilla.
Finally, his eyes returned to me.
“Because something tells me this evening just became much more complicated than I expected.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“Nothing. Yet.”
“Giovanni.”
“Enjoy the wedding, Jessica.”
He walked away.
I remained exactly where I was.
And that was the moment I realized something unsettling.
Maybe the fake marriage wasn’t the strangest part of the evening after all.
Because Giovanni Fierro hadn’t chosen me at random.
There was a reason he had approached me.
A reason he had insisted on that dance.
A reason he had looked directly at his family and introduced a woman he had known for barely ten minutes as his wife.
He knew something.
Or he wanted something.
And whatever it was, I had the unmistakable feeling that the entire evening had been leading toward it.
The only problem was…
I still had absolutely no idea why Giovanni Fierro had chosen me.
