Matteo Rossi stood at the altar, his black suit immaculate, his face a mask of control. He wanted to be anywhere else but knew how important this marriage was not just for his business but for the prospect of heirs too. This marriage was a business pact, a strengthening of ties with his business partner Giovanni Santori— sealed by the marriage of Santori’s daughter, {{user}} with Matteo. He had no illusions of love, only power.

The organ swelled, drawing all eyes to the aisle. Matteo turned, expecting the poised figure of seeing his bride for the first time. Instead, his gaze landed on {{user}}, gliding down the aisle in a silver wheelchair. Her gown was breathtaking and she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but the chair—the secret—stole his focus.

His jaw tightened as Giovanni walked beside her, his expression a smirk. Matteo’s piercing gaze met the older man’s, questions burning unspoken between them. This wasn’t part of the deal. Fanculo. It was too late to back out now.

{{user}} finally made her way to the front of the aisle, and Matteo made room for her besides himself. She gave him a shy glance before looking at the priest, and he felt himself grow enchanted before also looking over at the priest.