Chapter 2 – Who Is She?

Isabella’s POV

“Papa, I’m so excited!” I beamed. “This is the fanciest wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“Your wedding will be just as grand, mia stellina (my little star),” Salvatore said, smiling.

“Oh, Papa,” I blushed. “You spoil me too much.”

“I don’t spoil you enough,” Salvatore laughed.

My Papa, Salvatore Aventini, is the best father you could ever ask for. If you didn’t know, you would never guess he is one of the most prominent Mafia dons in New York. A man with a strong hand in his life, but never with his family. I’m the oldest of the Aventini children. The Mafia princess, as people call me, but that’s not what I want to be. I want to be an Economist. When I found out that Dutton Marks, one of the world’s best Economists and literally my idol, was going to be at the wedding, I begged my dad to bring me.

We are sitting in the pews, waiting for the bride, who my father said was ‘One of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen,’ to walk down the aisle. Well, the groom is definitely hot. Dr. Nathan Michaels is one of Papa’s friends. From what Papa told me, he briefly dated my Aunt in high school.

The music starts up. "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol is played by the string quartet. Ok, not traditional, but so sweet. The entire crowd of attendees stands up and turns their heads towards the doors.

I gasped.

Not because of the bride. It’s who is on the bride’s arm that catches my attention. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear my heart skips a beat. He’s tall, at least 6’4”, with thick chestnut colored hair, a squared jaw, juicy lips, and a perfect nose. I swear my uterus clenched at the sight of him. The bride and he must be related. After the wedding, I searched for him in the crowd, but I couldn’t find him. Maybe I could manage to meet him at the reception.

Bella, I chastised myself. Don’t get attached to this boy. You’ll break your heart. Guys like him don’t go for girls like us, Bella. I’ll never be a size two. I’m curvy, and I jiggled when I walked, but I love myself. I work out, and I eat healthy. I’m just not meant to be a tiny supermodel type. It took me years to accept myself. I was horribly bullied as a child at school. Being the daughter of a mafia Don just meant the bullying was hidden, more subtle. Boys mooed at me in the hallways. Girls didn’t invite me to their parties. I only had one good friend, Gabriella Marchanti. We’ve been inseparable since we were six years old.

About an hour of not being able to find the gorgeous mystery man, Papa advised it was time to head to the hotel for the cocktail hour and reception. Maybe I would be able to catch a glimpse of him there.

The hotel was spectacular as the venue. The same icy blue theme was in the lobby and the cocktail banquet hall. A man came over the loudspeaker asking us to move into the reception area in preparation for the bride and groom's entrance. We were all settled into our seats, then rose when they announced the entrance of the bride and groom. Then, I saw him. The gorgeous stranger was so mesmerizing at the wedding. He was standing next to Carrington Michaels at a table. I honestly didn’t hear the announcement of the bride and groom. All sound, all things disappeared. I just saw him. It was as if time stood still, and my heart, well, it was gone. Lost to him without even knowing his name, without even a word, and without a single touch. I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t fathom the feelings I was having. I berated myself for being so silly. He was so out of my league. I willed myself to look away and sat like the rest of the guests.

“Are you ok, Bella?” Papa asked me.

“I’m just feeling a little hot,” I replied.

“We can leave if you’re not feeling ok,” Papa informed me.

“No!” I blurted out. “I want to stay.”

Papa chuckled, “Ok, mia stellina. We will stay. Just don’t tell your Mama when I let you drink champagne.” Papa smiled at me.

“Thank you, Papa,” I said, smiling.

He really was the best father ever. I loved him so much.

Zander’s POV

Wow! My sister’s wedding is spectacular. I can’t believe she met and married a freakin’ billionaire. I’m walking through the hordes of people. Every person is dressed super fancy. A few of the girls stopped to talk to me, but they kept blabbing on about the social scene. I’m not from that lifestyle. Do they think I’m a rich guy because I’m at the wedding? Plus, they were all pencil-thin, not that there's anything wrong with that. Everyone should be body positive, regardless of their size. I just personally like a girl with more… substance. I like curvy girls. I like the jiggle and the soft grab onto something kind of girl. I don’t know why, but I’ve always liked that. I remember in grade six. There was a girl named Franca who was relentlessly teased about her weight. I thought she was absolutely beautiful. I stood up for her on the playground, and the teasing stopped, mainly because all the girls fawned all over me, and they didn’t want to make me mad.

Maybe I should just call it a night, but I was waiting for cake.

“Hey Zander,” Dante said as he approached me. “How are you liking the wedding so far?”

Dante is one of Nathan’s best friends. He is Dante Berkley, the big Hollywood action star.

“It’s really great,” I replied.

“Any hot chicks catch your eye yet?” Dante asked, taking a sip of champagne.

“Most of them are too old for me. Plus, I like curvy girls,” I responded.

“What about that one?” He said, pointing at a girl in a bright blue dress.

Wow, her back was to me, but she was as curvy as fuck. That ass…phew.

“Close your mouth, Zander, you’re catching flies,” Dante joked.

“Who is she?” I breathed out.

“I don’t know,” Dante advised.

“Who is who?” My sister questioned.

I didn’t respond; I just stared past her.

Amelie turned her head to follow my line of sight.

“Oh, that’s Isabella, Salvatore’s daughter,” Amelie said. “Do you want to meet her?”

“Really, what would I say?” I sputtered out.

“How about you start with, Hi,” Amelie giggled and grabbed my hand, leading me towards them.