Chapter 1
It was Princess Di’s and Meghan Markle’s weddings all rolled into one! The beautiful June afternoon with the brilliant sunshine, the scent of flowers blooming, and the lush green trees were certainly conducive for the fairy tale wedding between the handsome thirty-four year-old son and heir of the vast Italian brand: De Luca. Piero Giovanni De Luca had met African America beauty, Lauren Gracie Jamieson, at one of their fashion outbursts parties that had been introducing their latest collection of lingerie. Piero had arrived in the US for the event ahead of his parents and sisters and had been besieged by reporters since their private plane touched down on US soil.
Several reporters who had been faithfully following the whirlwind romance had reported that it had been love at first sight for the couple, with the tall and darkly handsome Italian sweeping Ms. Jamieson off her feet. Many also speculated about the future of her YouTube videos which had garnered enough views over the years to make it a success. The twenty-six year old fashionista was well known for her hair and unique sense of fashion and had also come up with a line of hair care products that were flying off her website. There were also speculations as to how long this marriage would last. The De Luca family were Italian royalty and Lauren was just an ordinary American girl who had made something of herself by being very innovative. Her father was a school principal and her mother owned and operated a flower shop in the small neighborhood where they had lived for the past thirty years. At the start of their romance, the town had been turned upside down as reporters frantically dug up anything they could find on the bride to be, wondering how on earth a man like Piero De Luca could end up with someone like Lauren. Some had remarked that it was her unusual beauty. Lauren Jamieson had that slender, willowy grace of a queen with her gentle curves, flawless coffee and cream complexion and hair that she had nurtured ever since she made the ‘big chop’ five years ago. The thick dark natural tresses had been streaked liberally with blonde highlights: a subtle shade of colors, ranging from dark brown to gold, giving her a distinctive look that her followers had tried to copy without success. Her fashion sense was of course unique, as she had the ability to pair faded denims and dress it up with an over sized man’s shirt, or alter a cocktail dress to make it into something so seductive and sexy that it could not be ignored.
But many speculated that all that would change now that she was marrying Piero De Luca. The family was steeped in rich history of Italy and had come from years of accumulated wealth. The tradition of the men who belonged to the Elite Club – an exclusive club that catered to the whims and fancy of some of the richest men in the world that had a tendency to marry ‘ordinary’ African American women – matches that looked to even the jaded eyes to be love matches.
The church was a Catholic one and one of the largest in the area. It was set on top of a slight crest, its white wedding cake appearance sprawled over several acres, overlooking the lush gardens and swaying palm trees and rhododendrons surrounding the perimeter fencing. The couple, followed closely by the avid reporters, had been seeing each other for two months when it was announced that they were engaged and the wedding set for June. A flurry of activities had followed, with wedding planners given the tasks to come up with a theme befitting the De Luca’s only son and heir and the right location for the ceremony and the reception chosen with the team of decorators set to work. Wedding invitations coveted and carefully selected were sent out, with the parents and sister of the groom flying in from Italy to meet their future in-law. It was whispered that the family – Adolfo and Bettina, Piero’s parents, as well as the gracefully beautiful younger sister, Alba - were not in agreement with the match, but no one had been able to ascertain that for a fact. The family commented in their coolly detached manner that their son’s happiness was all that matters to them and that they admired their future daughter-in-law’s beauty.
*****
“Darling, you look stunning!” Grace Jamieson remarked as she came into the room where her daughter was seated, putting on the final touches to her makeup. A bevy of fashion consultants and makeup artists had been assigned to ‘work’ on her, but had admitted that there was not much to be done.
“Natural beauty cannot be altered,” one of them had said, paying her the highest compliment to be had, “let me look at you.”
Lauren took several deep breaths to calm the butterflies in her stomach. There had been several times during the past two months that she had agonized over her decision to marry someone like Piero. He was fabulously wealthy and incredibly handsome and there were times when he looked at her with that brooding way of his, that made her wonder what secrets he was keeping behind that intense dark gaze of his. She was twenty-six years old and he was eight years her senior. He was experienced and appeared jaded, while she was effervescent and embraced life like she had been taught to do by her parents. He was friends with royalties, and apart from a summer tour of Europe when she was going off to college, she did not know the home which was soon to become her home. She was leaving the familiarity of her lifestyle and the home where freedom was taken for granted to go and live with people she was not familiar with and it scared the crap out of her!
Brushing the scare away, she got to her feet so that her mother could get the full effect of the shimmering white gown that had been especially designed by the top designer at De Luca. She would have preferred something simpler with a more flowery background, but it had not been left up to her. Piero had told her in his deep, slightly accented voice that it was of course natural for their designer to come up with the wedding dress.
“It will be auctioned off a few months from now.”
“I don’t get to keep it?”
Piero had looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses.
“Certo che no. Of course not.”
She had been brushing up on her Italian but was far from getting anywhere. He had told her that she should not worry about it.
“My family and I speak fluent English.”
“I want to fit in.” She had told him firmly, willing him to understand.
He had smiled slightly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes, and pulled her into his arms, his lips lightly touching hers.
“You will Tesoro.”
“Should I ask the cost of that dress?” Grace Jamieson came further into the hotel room, her feet sinking into the luxurious ash gray carpet, eyes riveted on the stunning picture her only child made. The dress had a corset like bodice, inlaid with pearls and diamonds studding the entire torso. The skirt, a light silken material, molded her hips and drifted all the way down to her feet. Diamonds were at her neck, lobes and right wrist, a part of the set that matched the ring she would be wearing as Piero’s wife. She had told him that she wanted to buy him a wedding band, but he had told her brusquely that the men in the family did not wear wedding bands. It was nothing personal, just a family tradition. It had not sat well with her, but she had not wanted to argue over something as trivial as the lack of a wedding ring on his finger. Their wedding was going to be televised and would be in magazines all over the world. Everyone who could read or had access to a device would know that Piero De Luca was her husband.
“I don’t even know the cost.” Lauren spread her arms wide and turned into a slow circle. Her thick hair had been brushed and piled on top of her head in a complicated coil, looking deceptively subdued and tamed. She had decided not to put anything in the extra two piercings in her lobes because Piero had hinted that it was not appropriate.