Page 100

Vuk

The morning of Jordan and Ayana’s wedding dawned bright and crisp. Mid-seventies, clear blue skies, golden sun.

It was a cruel twist of fate that the worst day of my life also happened to be one of the most beautiful days New York had seen all year.

I stared out the window, my teeth grinding. Behind me, Jordan and the rest of the groomsmen relaxed and prepped themselves for the upcoming ceremony. It was only an hour away.

An invisible iron band wrapped around my throat andsqueezed. I wanted to throw them all off the fucking balcony.

Call off the wedding.

I can’t.

Two weeks had passed since I met Ayana in her hotel suite, and those two words had imprinted themselves on my brain.

I can’t.

Why the fuck not? What was so goddamn important that it was worth throwing her life away on a marriage to a man she didn’t love and who didn’t love her back?

The mystery ate away at me over the weeks and turned my mood so foul no one except Jordan dared step foot near me.

I would’ve pressed Jordan about the issue again, but I couldn’t bear to talk to him unless I had to—both out of resentment for his part in the situation and self-loathing for what I did.

Even now, Ayana’s moans echoed in my ears. Walking away from her when she’d been in tears had almost killed me, but I couldn’t stay. I also couldn’t get a clear answer out of Jordan unless I told him what happened, and that would affect Ayana’s relationship with him as much as it would mine.

So here we were. An hour away from Armageddon.

The pressure in my chest ballooned and nearly suffocated me.

“Vuk.” Jordan’s voice brought my attention back to him. “You ready? It’s almost go time.”

I turned. The sight of him in his wedding finery made my eye twitch.

The other groomsmen had disappeared. I hadn’t noticed them leave, and I couldn’t care less where they went.

It’s a big day.

We were staying at a luxury hotel near the church where the ceremony would be held. There were less than fifty people invited to the actual wedding—mostly members of Jordan’s and Ayana’s families and their closest friends.

The bridal suite was located two floors above us. Ayana was there at this very moment, preparing to wed another man.

A coppery taste filled my mouth. I hadn’t trusted myself to talk to her since our hotel rendezvous. I’d spent the past two weeks trying to find a way out of this mess, but short of kidnapping her, my hands were tied.

And I had thought about the kidnapping angle. Multiple times. If it weren’t for the Brotherhood and the other shit ruining my life, I would’ve even considered it seriously.

“We should be all set.” Jordan seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil. “We need to head down soon to mingle with the guests before the ceremony. T-minus one hour until?—”

“You don’t have to marry her.” My words slipped out and landed in a vat of pin-drop silence.

Jordan gaped at me. I couldn’t tell whether he was more shocked by my declaration or the fact I was talking.

I’d communicated verbally with him on and off since my brother died, but I hadn’t said a word after he announced his engagement to Ayana.

He finally closed his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t love her,” I said, “you don’t have to marry her.”

This was my last-ditch attempt to solve things the cordial way. I owed him that much.