The Don Let His Best Man Rip My Wedding Dress

Halfway through the wedding, Don Vincent Moretti's most trusted man, Luca Voss, snatched the microphone and proposed a game. "Let's play 'Patchwork Gown.'" Luca was practically vibrating with excitement. "Everyone tears off a piece of the bride's dress and names their price. Boss Vincent has to buy each piece back. Then we stitch all those blessings into a brand-new gown." The words had barely left his mouth before he reached over and ripped the thin strap off my shoulder. I nearly flashed the entire room. Luca held up the scrap of tulle, winked at me, then aimed his phone at the big screen. "Like this, see? I'll start the bidding. Five thousand." Vincent looked at him and smiled, indulgent, then took the piece of fabric and transferred the money on the spot. The payment confirmation flashed across the screen, and the banquet hall erupted in cheers. "Classic Luca!" "That's how you prove true love, with cold hard cash!" His men and the guests fed off each other's frenzy. I clenched my fists, about to refuse, but Vincent leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Luca just wants to make the wedding a little more fun. Don't be a buzzkill." I froze where I stood. Three months ago, Luca had stuffed balloons under an oversized jacket, pretended he'd been seriously hurt, and tricked me into pressing my ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat. A balloon popped right against my ear and left me with intermittent hearing loss. Vincent said it was just a funny prank. On the night of our engagement, Luca deliberately dumped me, blackout drunk, on a curb at three in the morning. Vincent said the same thing then too. He's just playful, it's all in good fun. In Don Vincent Moretti's eyes, everything Luca did was good fun. The next second, someone rushed up and tore at my skirt. A panel of white fabric ripped free, and the person waved it in the air, shouting with glee. "Quick! Thirty thousand!" I stared at Vincent and said, word by word, "You transfer that money, and this wedding is over." Vincent frowned. "Everyone's here to celebrate. Clara, behave. Don't make a scene." Luca curled his lip from the sidelines. "Exactly. What a bore." The next moment, the chime of a thirty-thousand-dollar transfer rang out. The room exploded with screams and laughter, but a strange calm washed over me. Luca was right. What a bore indeed. He raised the microphone and announced, "Let the games begin!" The crowd surged forward in a wave. I grabbed the mic and shouted, sharp and loud. "Nobody touch me! The wedding is off!" But the microphone was dead. My warning drowned beneath the excited roar of the crowd. I stared at Vincent, numb. He had turned off my mic ahead of time. He stood below the stage, as though he had predicted my resistance all along. He even smiled. Then he took two steps back, shielded Luca behind him, and let countless hands reach for me. A ringing noise filled my ears. Yesterday, my family and friends had been lured to a nearby private island under the pretense of a wedding rehearsal arranged by Luca. The island was registered under the Moretti family name, and the docks and boats were controlled by their people. Right now, not a single person here was truly on my side. All because he thought it was fun. "Rrrrrip." Another large swath of tulle was torn away. I finally snapped out of it, stumbling backward, screaming until my voice cracked. "Stop it! The wedding is off! I'm calling the police!" The crowd fell silent for a beat. The person who had just torn my dress froze mid-motion. But Luca laughed and slung an arm around Vincent's neck, half-hanging off him, waving at the stunned guest. "The bride's kidding. Who ripped that piece? Come get your money!" Vincent smirked, his eyes full of nothing but indulgence for him. The person hesitated, then stepped forward. The transfer chime sounded, and the crowd screamed and lunged again. In no time, I had nowhere left to retreat. My voice was swallowed whole. Countless hands pulling, groping, shoving. The fabric covering my body grew thinner by the second. "Vincent!" I screamed his name and curled into myself, arms wrapped tight around my body. Through gaps in the crowd, I saw Vincent finally glance at the pile of shredded white fabric heaped beside him. The smile slid off his face. "Enough." The crowd had become a pack of feral animals. They wouldn't stop. "I said enough!" The Don had spoken. Several guards stationed at the edges of the hall moved in immediately. The guests dispersed, reluctant, unsatisfied. Someone murmured, "Couldn't push past those women, but getting to feel up a bride that gorgeous isn't a bad consolation prize." Another said, "The perks of working for the Moretti Don..." Vincent's expression turned ice-cold. He took off his suit jacket and walked toward me. When he saw the red scratches clawed into my arms and legs, his eyes went dark. "Didn't I tell you people to show some restraint?" Unease rippled through the crowd. The hall buzzed with nervous tension. Then Luca sneezed. "Is the AC set to arctic in here or what?" Vincent stopped mid-stride. The next second, he turned around and draped his jacket over Luca's shoulders. A chill ran through me. Goosebumps rose across my arms. Luca made a show of shrugging the jacket off. "Come on, Boss, I'm not that delicate." Vincent pressed a hand on his shoulder. "Behave." Luca gave a soft huff. "Fine." I took a deep breath, yanked down the floor-length curtain from the nearest window, and wrapped it around myself before standing up. The moment I took a step, Vincent grabbed me. "Where are you going? The wedding isn't over." I laughed coldly. "You think this wedding can continue?" He studied me for several seconds, then suddenly let go and smiled. "Fair point. The new gown will take a bit of time to piece together. Go rest in the room for now." In that moment, a thousand things surged to the tip of my tongue. In the end, I said only one. "Vincent, we're done."

Vincent opened his mouth as if to say something. "Boss Vincent! Come look at this pile of stuff, I can't figure it out!" Luca was standing on the heap of shredded wedding dress, scratching his head. Vincent turned back to look at him and laughed helplessly. "If you can't figure it out, what makes you think I can?" Luca was wearing his suit jacket. That jacket, like my wedding gown, had been crafted by the same reclusive, small-name designer. All because I'd once made an offhand comment admiring that designer's work. Vincent flew to Europe over a dozen times, showed up at the designer's door in person, and finally persuaded him to come out of retirement. When the gown arrived, Vincent handled it more carefully than I did. He said it should be kept as a family heirloom. It hadn't even survived the wedding day. Vincent and Luca crouched on the ground, talking. Luca suddenly picked up a piece of sheer fabric and draped it over Vincent's head, then ducked underneath it himself. Beneath the veil, their noses nearly touched. Luca's gaze was earnest and burning. Vincent saw in his eyes the many years they'd walked side by side, and for a moment, he lost himself. Luca grinned, brazen and wide. "No way. That's all it takes to rattle you? If you're this shy around me, another guy, what are you going to do when you're actually married to your fiancee?" Vincent pulled the fabric off and laughed. "Cut it out." Luca shoved him flat on his back, straddled him, and started tickling. "You're telling me to cut it out? I'll show you what happens." The two of them tumbled around in a heap. Guests drifted back to their seats. The banquet hall wasn't quiet. Someone whispered, "The Don really knows how to have a good time. Hires a bunch of actors as wedding guests, throws a fake ceremony, all just for kicks?" "I don't know about that. The bride seemed pretty serious to me." "She's the only one who thought it was real. You see any of the bride's family or friends around?" "None of the Moretti elders showed up either, did they? The rest of us are just hired help." "Who'd she piss off? That scene earlier was borderline sexual assault." I shut the door and sealed those grotesque images on the other side. Back in the suite, removing my makeup, I realized my face was streaked with tears. The wedding-night blessing on the bed had been arranged by Luca. I didn't want to touch that bed ever again. I changed into my own clothes and took off the ring. Only after confirming that the overseas fellowship originally scheduled for after the wedding could be moved up did I finally feel like I could breathe again. But my family and friends. I still couldn't reach a single one of them. Staring at the hurricane warning on my phone, dread coiled tighter and tighter inside me. I called the emergency line immediately, then got ready to head for the nearest dock. When the elevator doors opened, I saw Vincent and Luca standing inside. Vincent frowned. "Luca was right after all. You'd get upset and walk out." Luca sighed with theatrical pity. "Women. Always such a hassle." Vincent took my wrist. "Hear Luca out first." Luca shrugged. "If you're mad about Vincent being late the day we went to the courthouse for the marriage certificate, then all I can say is, you don't trust him at all." "He was so nervous that night. We watched those kinds of movies together just to help him relax." "What Boss Vincent and I have is completely pure. Everyone knows I'm his most trusted subordinate. Don't make it dirty." I didn't respond. He grew impatient. "I filmed those videos so Vincent could remember what a real reaction looks like versus a fake one. Honestly, I was doing it for your happiness tonight. I never meant for you to see them." By the time I processed what he was actually saying, the revulsion hit so hard I wrenched my hand out of Vincent's grip. So that was why Vincent had been completely drained the next day. Why he'd missed our appointment to register the marriage. Not a word about it before. Not a word after. Only now, at this exact moment. The skin he'd touched, I rubbed raw until it turned red. Vincent's face darkened. I stared at him, my voice cold. "Vincent, the hurricane is almost here. Where are my family and friends?" He blinked, and his eyes instinctively flicked to Luca. Luca glanced down at his buzzing phone, casual as anything. "I sent a boat over." He looked up, smiling that weightless smile. "Don't you think it'd be fun, all those people rowing back together across the open water?" The next second, as if only just noticing the weather alert on his screen, he raised an eyebrow. "Oh? A hurricane? Well, they'd better be careful then."

My heart plummeted. I turned and bolted for the exit. Luca stumbled when I shoved past him. I'd barely made it into the elevator before Vincent hauled me back out. "Apologize to Luca." His grip was crushing, and he was pointing at Luca's completely uninjured arm. A strangled gasp escaped me. Cold sweat beaded across my forehead in an instant. Vincent paused, followed my line of sight, and finally noticed my hand. It hung limp and loose. The wrist I'd twisted in the chaos had fully dislocated under his pull. His breath caught. "I didn't mean to..." I looked at him, and my voice came out terrifyingly calm. "Vincent, do you know what's most important on a surgeon's body?" He said nothing. His lips had gone white. A long time ago, he was the one who shielded me from a patient's unhinged family member. The man had rushed at me with a knife. Vincent took the blade for me. Back then, he told me, "As long as you're okay. A surgeon's hands are important." After we got together, he took over every household task. Anything he could do for me, he never let me lift a finger. Because, he said, a surgeon's hands are precious and must be protected. "Clara, I'll treat you this well for the rest of my life. I'll make you unable to leave me." Back then, I believed his promise. Until three months ago, when Vincent brought Luca back to his side. Luca had joined the Moretti family long before I ever met Vincent. He came from the Voss family, bold and reckless, and quickly became Vincent's most trusted, most intimate subordinate. The moment he came back, my life was turned upside down. "Forget it, forget it, I'm fine. I won't hold it against her." Luca waved a hand, the picture of magnanimity. I turned and stepped into the elevator. Vincent and Luca followed me in. Luca leaned on Vincent's shoulder and said casually, "The patchwork gown's almost done. Just finish the ceremony first, then go pick them up. The Don and his wife aren't there anyway." My parents had died in a car accident the same year I met Vincent. I stared at Vincent. "You only get away with this because I have no parents." He dropped his gaze and said nothing. Then he canceled the parking garage floor and pressed the button for the banquet hall. I pressed the parking garage button again, my tone biting. "After you and Luca let those hired actors assault me, you still think I'll marry you?" Vincent's head snapped up. "You know those people were hired actors? Who told you?" He met my eyes, then closed his own with a quiet sigh. "The Moretti family refused to attend the wedding. I just didn't want to disappoint you." Luca slapped him heartily on the shoulder. "Boss Vincent nearly broke with his own family for you. Do you have any idea what that means?" I stood there for a long time. This relationship that no one had believed in from the start, stumbling and bruised all the way to today. Vincent hadn't given up. Even when I'd been the pessimistic one, he kept trying. I hesitated through two proposals before finally accepting the ring on his third. That was the first time I ever saw Vincent choke up. He said, "Clara, there's no running from me now." That day, he held my hand and didn't let go for a single moment. I closed my eyes. "Vincent, send someone to bring my family and friends back safe." As long as they were unharmed, I could consider whether to give him one last chance to explain. Luca's brow furrowed immediately. "No way. Vincent and I made a bet. If they row back on their own, I win. If he calls in a rescue, he wins. If you make him send help, that's cheating. There's no fun in that." He leaned against Vincent's shoulder, looking up at me. "Have some sportsmanship. Just like the patchwork gown. Vincent paid for everything. You didn't lose a thing." He muttered under his breath, "Calling it assault, honestly. I thought you were different from the last one. Someone who could handle this kind of game." "If you knew about it, the other day Vincent and I played the abstinence game, slept naked in each other's arms the whole night and couldn't even..." "That's enough." Vincent cut him off. Luca huffed but didn't go on. Vincent avoided my eyes and said quietly, "Luca knows where the line is. You should have a little faith in them too." In that moment, my heart went completely cold.