Giorgia stood back and smiled. “You’re a beautiful bride…again.”

We were in the bedroom we’d been assigned in the Ruiz home. While the house wasn’t as large as Mom’s place, it was beautiful in its own right: Spanish architecture and as Dario had promised, beautifully situated on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

I turned to the full-length mirror. My cream-colored lace dress was formfitting with a hem that came to above my ankles. My hair was styled in an ...