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Story: Bloody Wedding

Right where she’s always belonged.

And I will do anything I have to, eliminate any threat in way, do whatever it takes to keep her there.

Desmond’s blood still stains her wedding dress. I’ll have to get my hands on it to preserve it just the way it is before one of the Order’s cleaners decides to try to restore it to its pristine condition. Fifty years from now, when the red blood is deep brown, the lace yellowed with age, I’ll look at the blood andrecognize it as just another price I paid, a sacrifice I made, a promise I kept… and I’ll smile.

Just like I do now when Loni spits out, “Desmond.”

Oh,princess.

“You were a terrible liar when we were kids,” I tell her. My grin widens. “It’s nice to see that that hasn’t changed.”

Her lips part, another lie ready to spill, or maybe a denial. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I know the truth, and I’m going to take advantage of the way she’s suddenly flustered.

My hand goes to her hair again—soft, it’s so fuckingsoft—before slipping through the strands, palming the back of her head. Holding her in place, I lower my mouth until it’s brushed up against hers. She gasps, and I kiss her with everything I have in me. Only when I’m growing light-headed from the lack of air do I release her.

That same dazed expression from before turns her beautiful face into one that dazzles me.

“What… what was that?”

“You said you won’t kiss someone who tastes like an ashtray,” I remind her. “I’m going to give up smoking for you. This is what I want in exchange.”

“I…what?”

I’ve knocked her off-kilter. This is the only way I’m going to get her to agree, and maybe I’m a bastard, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“To kiss my wifeasmy wife whenever the fuck I want to.” I press my lips to the corner of her mouth, a whisper of the kiss I just gave her. “Even if it’s just my tongue right now, I’m going to get inside of you whatever way I can.”

She sucks in a breath.

I press my finger to her lips.

“Come upstairs with me, Loni,” I murmur. “Let me show you to your room.”

I don’t give her the chance to refuse. With my hand on her upper back, I help her heft up her gown so that she doesn’t stumble on the stairs. I want so desperately to lead her into my bedroom—ourbedroom—but I keep going until we’re in front of the room that I designated as hers… for now.

Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, I murmur, “Sleep well tonight, princess. Your first full day as Mrs. Heller begins tomorrow.”

SEVEN

WHO DID THIS

LONI

Ihate him.

I hate him.

I haaate him.

Hm. Why isn’t that working?

I’m lying in an oversized bed, the AC cranked so high, I’ve snuggled beneath the heavy comforter that—annoyingly—smells like vanilla and chamomile. Two of my favorite scents, and I could pretend that was a coincidence… I could be pissed that the bedding is refreshed as though Adrian often has female company… if it wasn’t for the fact that nearly everything I own is in this room.

The luggage I brought with me from Bridgewater, stuffed full of the clothes I unpacked back at Dad’s. My makeup bag. My laptop tote. My headphones. Some of the knick knacks that decorated my childhood bedroom all relocated to this room in Adrian Heller’s house.

In myhusband’s house.

Of course. If I can believe Adrian, he spent the last two weeks prepping this room for me since he knew that—despiteDesmond’s name on the invitation—I would end up marryinghim. That’s what he told me before he finally left me alone in this room… but not before he insisted on unzipping me so that I could finally climb out of the monstrous wedding dress I’ve been trapped in for hours.