Hey Rom-Cubs,

Here's the long-awaited fifteenth installation.

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- Ang

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Can I really go through with this? Can I live with it for the rest of my life?

More importantly, could I live with him?

I looked up to see his icy blue piercing gaze on me. Evidently, he was still mad and I couldn't find fault with that. I could've sworn then and there, had it been the slightest bit more intense he would have fried an omelette or better yet, burned two holes into my skull. Despite his obvious distaste towards me, he seemed to look all the more appealing to the eye.

Niccolò was dressed to kill and I might as well have been his first victim. His thick raven hair glistened under the soft light, slicked back and I couldn't deny the need I felt to run my fingers through it to return it to its usual curly state.

His dark suit contrasted with his bright blue eyes, making them stand out. Besides that, it seemed to fit his well-sculpted body perfectly and I was sure if he walked down the street every woman within a hundred-mile radius would stop and start begging him to take them to bed.

He wore a coral green tie which somehow complimented his eyes. I didn't think it was possible for the man to look more gorgeous, but he obviously had a knack for proving me wrong.

He could as well have been on the cover of a magazine, a model for Calvin Klein designs as well as several other prominent magazines women idolized. But alas, he stood before me in a court of law, ready to take the plunge hook, line and sinker. I was certain he could've had any woman he wanted in the snap of a finger, looking the way he did now.

He was young, muscular, gorgeous and had an air of charisma about him that surely attracted women to him like bees to honey. What I couldn't understand was why he wanted to marry me and that bothered me now, more than it did before. It was odd, the attention I got from him after all I wasn't used to being pursued by men outside of my race, far less asked by one to marry him, though that was putting it lightly. He basically demanded that I do.

Firstly, Niccolò blackmailed me into accepting his proposal of marriage, which, might I add, had to be the furthest thing from it in my opinion. There was nothing amorous about it, so much so that it appeared like a pitch to win an account or a client than anything else.

Furthermore, he made me the most outrageous and tempting offer, knowing well enough that I was in no position to refuse. I admit, I could've refused but I was not only playing with my life but my papa's. I was desperate in no uncertain terms. I doubted that I would be much use to him out of a job with the remnants of my last paycheck to survive on. Though the job paid well, I wouldn't see the money in a good hour after taking care of his medical bills.

The bargain seemed simple, harmless enough, his much-needed resources for a chance to love me. Who would pass it up in my position? He could just as easily snatched up a young gorgeous woman in a heartbeat. In theory, the whole thing seemed plausible, however, now that things were moving along faster than a bat out of hell, I wasn't as keen about the idea anymore. The more I examined it, the more it appeared to be some sick joke.

I kept waiting for him to confess that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding. There was no confession. Besides, he didn't strike me as the type to propose an idea without putting one hundred percent thought into it. His demeanour, however, seemed out of place. For one, today was the day we wed. The day we become a whole, an item bound together by the law and most importantly, in the eyes of God.

Think happy thoughts. Look on the brighter side of things. Was there even a brighter side? It all appeared the same. Why else would I be of two minds about this? Of course, I wanted to be sure that I was doing the right thing. Ok, do this and papa might as well get a clean bill of health. Why did this sound more like a deal with the devil every time I examined it? Happy thoughts! Oh, Niccolò must have been a great cousin.

It was our turn to enter the courtroom. We'd been waiting out in the foyer for the last forty-five minutes or so. Niccolò, his younger sister Krysta, my best friend, Tionnè and me.

I was delighted at the distraction our witnesses posed to me. They were both beautiful in their own right. His sister looked positively gorgeous.

Krysta wore a plain Khaki dress that fell delicately at her knees. The dress was one of lace with sleeves that sparkled under the light and she'd matched it with a pair of khaki-coloured pumps. Her shoulder-length hair, which was identical to her brother's, was pinned to one side. The result was that she, too, could've modelled for A-list magazines and as well, could break many hearts.

She grinned under my scrutiny, obviously no less than thrilled that Niccolò and I were doing this. I wished that I shared her enthusiasm but I could only wonder if this was the right choice for him. If I was the right choice.

Tionnè linked her arms with mine, rubbing my forearm supportively. The look on my face probably looked nothing like that woman on her wedding day about to marry the man of her dreams, much less Krysta's euphoric expression.

I turned to see her offer a genuine smile before placing her head on my shoulder as we walked through the double doors. More often than not, Tey was my conscience, the mother I never had and I could've died inside to see her walking me down the aisle. That position was reserved to none other than my papa but he was in no condition to do that so she was the next in line since my mother had been nonexistent for the better part of my life. Not that I considered her any less.

It was just that I couldn't help but want to feel that joy of having a mother there to wipe the tears from my eyes when I became so overwhelmingly happy that I began to cry on my wedding day. I guess Tey was mine. My mother.

She wore a navy blue French connection dress that showed off her curvy figure that women would kill for. The sleeveless dress fell at her knee, perfectly accentuating her hourglass shape, completing her knockout look. At that moment, I couldn't help but wonder why she even befriended a girl like me when she could've chosen better.

"It's ok, Dari." She said, rubbing my back comfortingly. "You can do this!"

Can I really? My almighty and all-powerful God in heaven, I beg your forgiveness if I am about to commit the worst mistake of my life. If there is any other way to that would please you more please send me a sign. If there be another way to ensure my papa gets the best health care possible, please stop this wedding. Please, I beg you show me a sign. Show me a sign. Anything sign. Lord? Please?

I glanced around the room subtly and there nothing out of place. In fact, everything seemed perfect, well everything except the look on Niccolò's face. Was it just me or did he look like he was about to commit murder? Could it be possible that he hated me that much? I wouldn't put anything past him at the moment?

"Is this supposed to be the happiest day of his life?" I whispered to Tionnè who chuckled despite the tension in the room.

"Trust me, honey, there's nothing typical about this wedding." She returned, though I guessed that she was only trying to soothe my woes. I appreciated her that much more because of it. She may never understand or support this endeavour one hundred percent, but at least she was supporting me. "He doesn't smile much, anyway."

We joined Niccolò and Krysta at the front. Tionnè kissed me on the forehead. Niccolò took notice of the gesture evident by the tightening of his jaw and that glazed look in his eye. It must have reminded him of my moment of weakness.

I looked away, desperate not to feel as horrible as I did now. Tionnè sat with Krysta in the front row, both greeting each other briefly. It was good that at least that they could get along in light of these circumstances.

"All rise." The bailiff called, drawing our attention to the front of the court beyond the bar that separated the witnesses from us. "The honourable, George Darlington presiding."

An elderly man appeared in a black gown, making his way behind the bench. He appeared to be maybe in his late sixties if his greying hair was any indication. He was a short man or possibly look that way in the distance. His eyebrows were the colour of salt and black pepper, giving me the inkling that he was once a brunette. The same went for his mustache and the beard that covered his lower jaw. Even from a distance, I could see the wrinkling of his forehead and at his eyes. He cleared his throat, briefly setting his things on the wooden surface before looking over us.

"Good day, ladies and gentleman. If I may proceed--," He met his eyes with everyone before they settled on Niccolò and me.

"--Excuse me, your honour." I recognised the thick feminine Italian twang before turned to see Krysta rise from her seat beside Tionnè, approaching the bar. She gestured to me to come her way and I glanced at the judge to see him nod, his approval before I went to her. She smiled at me before taking my hand into her palm, pressing two identical navy velvet boxes into both my hands.

"The one on your left is for Niccolò." She gave pulled me into a hug, kissing me on the cheek before releasing me and returning to her seat.

I joined Niccolò once again and indicated to the judge that he could continue by a curt nod. He acknowledged with a genuine smile.

"The wedding ring ... is a symbol of unity, a circle unbroken, without beginning or end." I was grateful for the distraction he presented from the macho man beside me. "Today, Niccolò Marcelo Casimiro and Adaramola Malia John give and receive these rings as demonstrations of their vows to make their life one, to work at all times to create a love that is whole and unbroken, and to love each other without end."

A lump began to form throat at his words and I could feel the heat of Niccolò's eyes on me.

I was almost relieved my papa was in no condition to attend the nuptials. He would have called this for the sham it was. He was a perceptive man when he wanted to be despite his condition. If he'd seen the look on my face and that which the groom had levelled on me, he would've immediately objected. He knew me well enough to know when my heart wasn't in it. I wasn't. Besides, there was nothing amorous about it. Certainly not the bore of a Court Wedding, in my humble opinion.

It was time for the exchange of rings as well as vows. I turned to see a blank expression on the groom's face. I approached Niccolò to offer him the velvet box in my left, avoiding his gaze, knowing all too well that he watched me closely. I, for one, could not hold his penetrating gaze, instead, taking an overly keen interest in the other velvet box that remained in my hand which, wasn't all that interesting.

I was surprised by the gentle hand that took mine, and more importantly, the man it belonged to. I found his gaze, which had softened as blue of his eyes seemed to pierce me to my soul. He repeated after the judge who supplied him with his vows.

"I, Niccolò Marcelo Casimiro, take you, Adaramola Malia John, to be my lawfully wedded wife. Before these witnesses, I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you, with all my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help and will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I spend my life." He completed his vows while sliding the simple gold band with tiny circular diamonds up my marital ring finger before looking into my eyes again.

It was my turn to say my vows. My pulse raced and I was sure my heart had entered my throat for all of thirty seconds as I fetched the ring from its velvet casing, fingering it before I looked up into Niccolò's eyes. With one last protest in my mind, I decided that this was the right thing to do.

I cleared the lump from my throat so that I could repeat my vows called out by Judge Darlington. "I, Adaramola Malia John, take you, Niccolò Marcelo Casimiro, to be my lawfully wedded husband. Before these witnesses, I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with all my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help and will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I spend my life."

"Niccolò Marcelo Casimiro and Adaramola Malia John, just as two very different threads woven in opposite directions can form a beautiful tapestry, so can your two lives merge to form a very beautiful marriage." Judge Darlington read again as Niccolò and I stared into each other's eyes. "To make your marriage work will take love. Love should be the core of your marriage, love is the reason you are here. But it also will take trust - to know in your hearts, you want the best for each other. It will take dedication - to stay open to one another, to learn and grow together even when it is not always easy to do."

"I will take faith - to be willing to go forward to tomorrow, never really knowing what tomorrow will bring. In addition, it will take commitment - to hold true to the journey, you both now pledge to share together."

"Niccolò Marcelo Casimiro and Adaramola Malia John, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, I now declare you to be Husband and Wife."

I inhaled deeply, blinking my eyes at the moisture that formed within them. It was now official. I am now bound to Niccolò Casimiro, now my husband. I would no longer be known as Adaramola John but Adaramola Casimiro. It was a hard pill to swallow but now I had no choice.

"Congratulations, you may kiss your bride." Judge Darlington gestured to Niccolò who nodded curtly. I closed my eyes anxiously, taking deep breaths to compose myself. I found myself anticipating his kiss as he'd said, but was oddly disappointed as his cold lips pressed against my cheek.

"Sei mia ora che ti piaccia o no!" He whispered into my ear, sending chills throughout my body.

*END of Chapter Fifteen*

TRANSLATIONS

Italian - English

"Sei mia ora che ti piaccia o no!" - "You're mine now whether you like it or not!"