I Kissed His Brother at My Own Wedding

For a brief second, I thought I saw something flicker across Dante's face. It looked like panic, or maybe unease. But it vanished so quickly that I couldn't be sure if I had imagined it.

With his pride and arrogance, he wasn't the type to dwell on something like that. He simply assumed I had backed down again, just like I always did.

Thinking I had been frightened into submission, he straightened slightly and said in a smug, almost condescending tone, "I'll take you inside."

The way he spoke made it sound less like an offer and more like a favor, as if he were granting me some kind of undeserved mercy.

When we arrived at the front hall of the cathedral, it was already filled with capos' wives, associates, and old family allies who had been invited to the ceremony. The entire space buzzed with chatter and anticipation, the low hum of conversation rolling beneath vaulted stone ceilings where candlelight caught the gold leaf overhead.

Dante walked ahead of me without slowing down, holding onto Valentina's arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I followed a few steps behind, like an afterthought.

The usher approached them and, without hesitation, turned to Valentina and said politely, "The bride should be separated from the groom for a while before the ceremony."

Valentina lifted her chin slightly and glanced at me, her eyes filled with pride and quiet triumph. She didn't bother explaining anything, as if my presence didn't even warrant clarification.

I let out a silent sneer and was about to turn away when Dante suddenly reached back and grabbed my wrist.

"What are you talking about?" he said to the usher, his tone sharp. "This is my wife."

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze.

It was the first time he had ever called me that. The word felt unfamiliar coming from his mouth, almost surreal.

Dante stood up for me, acknowledged me as his wife in front of others.

But the moment didn't last.

As if he had touched something unpleasant, he quickly let go of my wrist, his expression returning to its usual indifference.

The ceremony itself proceeded without any major disruptions. Everything followed the expected sequence, smooth and orderly on the surface. The priest spoke his words, the candles held their flames, and the guests sat in their assigned pews according to rank.

Soon, it was time for the bouquet toss.

Without even looking at me, Dante simply took the bouquet and handed it directly to Valentina, completely bypassing me as if I didn't exist.

I noticed that his eyes were slightly red, glistening faintly under the lights.

"I hope you find happiness," he said softly.

Valentina clung tightly to him, her voice trembling as she spoke, her eyes filled with tears.

"Dante, you'll belong to someone else soon," she said. "As your friend… can you give me one last kiss?"

For a moment, I just stared at her, stunned.

I had seen shameless behavior before, but this was on an entirely different level.

What shocked me even more was the reaction of the crowd. Instead of discomfort or disapproval, there was excitement.

Dante and I hadn't informed either family's elders about this wedding. We had only invited a small group of close associates and inner-circle friends.

I didn't have many people to begin with, so most of the guests present were his. Made men. Crew loyalists. People who had grown up under the Moretti name.

Before the wedding, I had suggested making it more formal, inviting both families so it would feel meaningful, real. Otherwise, it would seem like nothing more than a childish performance.

But he had turned it against me, accusing me of not respecting his wishes. He had said that if I didn't want to get married, I should just say it.

Now, the crowd began chanting loudly, their voices filling the reception hall.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

The host stood there awkwardly, clearly unprepared for this situation, unsure of how to guide the ceremony forward.

Dante and Valentina stood close together, their bodies nearly touching. Their chests pressed together, their noses almost brushing, as if they were about to merge into one.

Even in that moment, Valentina didn't forget to glance at me, her eyes full of deliberate provocation.

Dante hesitated for only a few seconds before leaning in.

It lasted no more than ten seconds.

But it was enough.

Enough to humiliate me completely, right there in front of everyone.

At my own wedding.

Any other woman in my place would have already exploded, would have rushed forward and torn them apart.

But I didn't move.

My expression remained calm, composed, almost detached.

Was I not a woman?

Of course I was.

I just… didn't love Dante anymore.

That was all.

But my silence didn't stop his people from stepping in.

Rocco was the loudest among them, his voice cutting through the noise. He cracked his neck once to the left and then went still, settling into that unnatural calm of his before he spoke.

"Adriana, how many times do we have to say it?" he scoffed. "Dante and Valentina are just good friends. Friends hugging and kissing is completely normal. I don't get why you're so jealous."

He shook his head, as if deeply disappointed.

"We actually feel bad for Dante," he continued. "Having to deal with someone as controlling as you. He has no freedom at all."

"If it were me," he added with a sneer, "I wouldn't be able to stand it. This wedding shouldn't even happen."

One after another, Dante's associates joined in, their words twisting the situation, subtly shifting the blame onto me.

It had always been like this.

No matter what I did or didn't do, as long as I stood beside Dante, they would find a reason to criticize me, to lecture me, to make me the problem.

I looked at Rocco calmly and asked, "So that means we're friends too, right?"

He paused for a moment, slightly confused, but quickly nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Dante and I are like brothers, and you're about to be his wife. I already think of you as my sister-in-law."

Dante glanced at him, his eyes softening with emotion, as if moved by this declaration of brotherhood.

The atmosphere was suddenly filled with a sense of loyalty and camaraderie.

I almost laughed.

Without warning, I stepped forward.

Before Rocco could react, I leaned in, rising onto my toes, and pressed my lips against his.

He froze in shock, completely unprepared.

While Dante and Valentina's kiss had lasted only ten seconds, I didn't pull away.

Thirty seconds passed.

Then more.

The chanting died. Every voice in the room collapsed into nothing. Somewhere behind me, a glass was set down on a table with exaggerated care, as if the person holding it was afraid the sound might shatter whatever was left of the evening.

By the time I finally stopped, Rocco was visibly breathless, his face flushed with disbelief.

He stumbled back, finally snapping out of it, and pushed me away.

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Everyone was completely dumbfounded.

No one looked at Rocco. Every pair of eyes in that hall drifted, slowly and inevitably, toward Dante.