Page 45 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

It’s a dismissal, and an obvious one at that. Hunter bows his head before turning away from the desk, heading out the way he came. Before he leaves, though, he glances up just enough to shoot a look over at Adrian and me.

And he winks.

What the?—

Jack rises up from his seat. He heads to a cabinet I never noticed before on the other side of the room, grabbing three glasses. He peers at his guest, nods at Adrian, then puts one back.

I know why. Every single Owed in Harmony Heights has a vice. Some gamble. Some drink. Some do a variety of different drugs. Some lose themselves in the Used. Adrian doesn’t drink. His vice used to be cigarettes.

Now?

It’s me.

He squeezes my fingers as Jack comes back, carrying two glasses. He makes quick work of opening the bottle, pouring two fingers in each of the glasses. He keeps one, then gives the other to Adrian’s mentor.

He takes it gladly, but pauses when Adrian points at him.

“Stephen. Don’t you think you’ve had enough already today?”

The older man blinks. No wonder his eyes look like that, and he smells the way he does. It’s only noon, but when you’re an alcoholic, you can start drinking anytime.

He sets his glass down.

Jack scoffs. “Come the hell on, Steve. Don’t tell me you’re going to let one of the boys tell you what to do.”

Adrian’s tone turns steely. “I just thought we should head into this conversation with a clear head, Uncle Jack.”

He picks up the glass, swirling the alcohol. “Absolutely not. To get through this… I think we’ll all need a drink.” Before he takes a swing, he says, “So how are you going to blackmail me, boy?”

“Who said anything about blackmail?”

“You did. When you tanked the Order’s portfolio on purpose.

” “Don’t be coy. Stephen’s head’s either in a bottle of rum or in between a pair of tits down at the Court, but if I pull him out long enough, he still knows how to do the job I have you, Adrian.

I know what you did. I had to replace half a mil alone today to replace it before my men found out. ”

“Selling women seems to be very lucrative. I bet you barely notice it’s gone.”

Jack sets down the glass, untouched. “I knew it. Is that what this is about? The girl?”

Adrian lays his hand over mine as though he needs the connection before he gets up and slaps his uncle across the face. “That ‘girl’ is my wife.”

“This again? Alright. You win. I’ll let you keep the Dougherty girl, you go back to work and fix this mess you made. How about that? As long as you don’t fuck up the books anymore, you can keep her. Deal?”

That’s what Adrian wants. I think that’s what he’s wanted all along.

But instead of accepting the offer, he stays quiet and waits.

Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “Children,” he mutters under his breath. Grabbing his glass, he downs the shot he poured in one gulp.

Adrian leans forward in his seat, eyes gleaming in anticipation.

I look at him curiously. He shakes his head, puts a finger to his lips, and gestures for me to watch the desk.

So I do.

His face turns red almost immediately. He coughs a few times, then sets down his empty glass. He rubs his throat. He clears it.

He gags.

“Jack?” Stephen blinks, staring at the other man in confusion. Jack? Stop fooling. You said this meeting would only last ten minutes. Come on.”

With all of us as witness—and none of us able or willing to help—Jack chokes. He grabs his neck, squeezing it, gasping, choking, until a dribble of red wells up in one corner of his mouth. He stands up, stumbling a few steps away, before he lands on the carpet, face-down.

“Jack? You trip or something? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Alright. I’m comin’.”

Stephen gets up from his chair, crouching down at the other man’s side.

I don’t think he realized what was happening at first, but suddenly he curses under his breath, then grabs for Jack’s throat.

It takes him a few seconds to check for a pulse.

When he does, but can’t find one, he yelps.

Babbling nonsense, running from the room, he’s gone long before Jack Collins will get cold.

The whole thing took about two minutes tops.

“Poison,” Adrian announces with a satisfied grin.

I stare at my husband, shocked, and he shrugs.

“When I called Nicholas and told him he owed me a dead body, he gave me the options, but he really pushed poison for some reason. Something about showing up the Hummingbird.” He shrugs.

“It was on short notice and he promised to pull through. If Nicholas Reed wanted to use poison, that’s fine with me. ”

“Nicholas?” I’m so fucking confused. Kinda grateful that King Collins is dead, but… what the fuck just happened? I latch on to the one thing I’m sure of. “He said his name was Hunter. Was it a fake name? Like I used to use?”

“Nope. Guys like these get off on killing the bad guys right under our noses. They don’t use pseudonyms. But that Reed? That was his identical twin. Seems like Nicholas is the manager. Hunter is the muscle. Trust me. If you saw them both together, they look the same, but they’re very different.”

I get it. “Like you and Dallas.”

Ah, shit.

Dallas…

Adrian nods. “Right. And Stephen did exactly what I needed. Poor drunk was the witness that proves the poison came from that bottle, and that bottle came from a future Owed who doesn’t actually exist. That donation? It never happened, but Jack was so damn money hungry, he never even checked.”

That makes so much sense. And no wonder he firmly told his mentor not to take a sip. Otherwise, we’d have two bodies on our hands.

Should I be freaking out more than I’ve just watched another man die? I guess, after your groom is assassinated on your wedding day, you kind of get sort of blase about things like this… especially when everyone in Harmony Heights knows that, in the Order, murder is just another hobby.

Still—

“Won’t you get in trouble? Killing Desmond is one thing… I saw the blood oath… but the King? Adrian, you might’ve gone too far.”

Leaning over his seat, he strokes the side of my jaw. “When it comes to you, there’s no such thing.”

“What about Dallas?”

“He knows. Don’t worry, princess. He signed off on it. His first official act as the new King of the Order.”

The King is dead.

Long live the King.

Adrian gets to his feet, holding out his hand, he waits for me to place mine in his again.

Once I have, he helps me up. “I figure we have maybe two minutes until Stephen comes running back in here with whatever Order members he can find. Once it gets out that Jack was stealing from the Order, he’ll be lucky if they don’t just chuck him in an unmarked grave.

Selling girls? I’ve done so fucked-up shit, but even that’s too low for me. ”

Hooking my arm in his, the two of us walk casually out of Jack’s office, leaving his corpse behind. There’s no secretary waiting out here, or any enforcers, either. More of Adrian’s handiwork?

I’d put every cent I had down on it.

Whistling softly, he leads me into the elevator. I lean into him. He presses floor 20 , and away we go.

This is the first time I’ve been in his office, and if Jack hadn’t told me if was on the twentieth floor I don’t know if I would’ve found it… and I believe it until I walk in and something about the room screams ‘Adrian Heller’ to me. The color. The scent.

The blown-up picture of me in my bloody wedding dress…

I have no idea where he got that from. I don’t remember any pictures being taken through our fateful ceremony, but there I am, a look of horror and resignation on my face as though I was just about to sign a deal with the devil.

Did I? Maybe it’s too soon to tell, but as Adrian shuts the door behind us before backing me up against the first wall he can find, kissing my neck, hands grabbing at my clothes to get them off as fast as he can… I wouldn’t have done it any other way.

He’s panting in my ear. “I need you, princess.”

“You can have me. Whenever you want me, baby, I’m yours . You saved me. You killed for me?—”

“I’d die for you,” he vows darkly.

I grab his cock through his suit pants. A bubble of laughter rises up my throat, amusement at just how goddamn right we are together. “Really? Right when I was beginning to think I might like you?”

He nips my earlobe. “Don’t fool yourself, princess. You love me.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me again. And not because I won’t let you come if you don’t. Tell me ‘cause you mean it.”

Sure. After all, he deserves it. He’s certainly earned it. “I love you, my husband. My Adrian. I love you, I love you, I love you .”

That spurs him to get inside of me even faster. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, Loni Heller?”

I do. “Four years?”

He has my pants down past my ass. I hear his zipper, the rustle of his boxer briefs as he yanks his cock out through the opening. “No.”

It’s hard to think as he’s filling me up with him, but… “Ten?”

“Not quite.”

I groan as he slams home. I lay one hand flat against the wall. The other reaches for any part of him I can grab as he fucks me so passionately, it’s like I’m seventeen again, and I’ll die if I can’t have all of him.

“I… I don’t know. How long?”

The force of his thrusts have me going up on my tiptoes. I throw back my head, even more distracted as he sucks on my neck, grazing my skin with his teeth, touch me everywhere and anywhere while Jack Collins body lies abandoned ten stories above us.

Shit will hit the fan. I know that. But, if only for this moment right now, it’s just me. It’s just Adrian?—

“I told you. I decided when I was in fucking kindergarten that you were meant to be mine. Sure, I didn’t get the idea in my head that I could have you under me until I was a teen, but… tell me, Loni, my love… my wife… is there anywhere you’d rather be?”

I shake my head. “No, Adrian. No …”

“Good, because I told you once, and I’ll tell you again… I will never let you go.”

Can’t have all of him?

No.

I always have .