“We aren’t talking about that now.” Her jaw tightens, but she forces a smile, brittle but brave. “We’re here to celebrate you two.”
After the shooting, my friend decided the best way to keep Winifred safe was to step back and not draw attention tothem. It’s our collective belief that I was shot because someone thought she and I were involved. Esteban’s life would be at risk if her relationship with him was exposed. So until they catch the arsehole responsible, things between them have been put on hold. And it’s gradually destroying them both. I’ve never seen two such miserable bastards.
Squaring her shoulders, she pushes through the door and steps into the room. Her eyes land right where I knew they would—on the man she loves, caught in a conversation with her mother. God only knows what she’s trying to pull.
With practiced grace, her smile polished now, she lifts her chin. “Come on. Don’t keep them waiting.”
Lacing my fingers through hers, I tug my wife behind me. “Are you ready, Mrs. Falcon?”
“Don’t know that I’ll ever get used to that name,” Ingrid sighs.
The emcee introduces us, and I pull her close, spinning her into our first dance. “You will. You’re stuck with me now for all eternity.”
Three hours is my limit.
I’ve played nice.
Endured the looks, the whispers, the silent condemnation. Kept my composure, accepting every glare aimed at me for daring to marry outside their sacred circle. Especially hers—the woman leads them all, convinced I’ll one day repent and see the so-called truth.
My mother presses a kiss to my cheek and whispers in my ear, “There’s still time, son.” Her tone is laced with a warningand zero affection. “You are not making allies by bucking the system. Defiance won’t earn you respect.”
“I have no interest in making allies or earning respect from this crowd.” I pick up my wineglass and drain it. “You should know that by now, Mother.”
“I only want what’s best… for you.” Her frown deepens as her glare cuts across the room at my bride, who’s laughing with her best friend on the dance floor. “You should’ve married that one. Winifred Batista. I could’ve made that work. Her lineage, while distant, still counts.”
“Winfred was never mine to choose.” I take a moment to look over at my best man, whose eyes have been glued on her all night long. “Plus, she’s spoken for. I was playing along to help a friend.” My voice stays level, but my patience thins. “And if you want what is best for me, then youwillaccept my wife and drop this nonsense. You always said you only ever wanted me to be happy. Look at me, Mother. I’ve never been happier.”
“Are you sure about that?” She slides into the seat next to mine, fingers gripping my face.
Ingrid catches the moment, rolls her eyes, and the sight makes me chuckle. The smile that follows is real, unshakable—even my mother can’t deny it.
“Fine,” she concedes, though her tone drips with disapproval. “But promise me this—don’t rush into children. Don’t ruin everything by knocking her up tonight. One scandal at a time. Let’s not give them more ammunition to revoke our titles.”
Her words erase my smile and replace it with a cold fury. “They’re threatening to do that?”
Sighing, she rises with regal disdain. “Well, no. But they will. They always do. Ours is the purest bloodline left. It would be best if you and your wife didn’t reproduce at all. Spare us the stain of it. A bastard child always pays for the sins of theirparents. For once in your life, think before you act. For the sake of the family.”
I seize her arm and force her to look at me. “Is that a threat, Mother? Are you threatening my unborn child?”
“Me?” She recoils, scandalized. “No. I would never. But others will. Are you willing to take that risk?”
I drop her arm, leaning close, my voice low and precise, so only she can hear. “Then make sure they understand this. If anyone so much as breathes wrong in my family’s direction, I’ll destroy them. Burn the whole order down and drag every secret it has into the light. That’s not a threat. That, my dear mother, is a fucking promise.”
It’s the first crack in her armor—fear. “Darius, you wouldn’t?”
“I would. I will.” My gaze cuts across the room to the Doyle family, whose polished smiles hide rot. “And I’ll start with the Doyles. They’re drowning in secrets. Enough to destroy them a hundred times over. All it would take is me pulling the right thread.”
“Trent will eat you alive.” Her composure slips, her voice sharp but trembling.
That makes me laugh. “Trent? He’s a mobster living on borrowed time. He may think he’s untouchable, but I already know where his cracks are.”
“You have no idea what kind of trouble that will cause. Don’t do it.” My mother reaches for my hand. “Please, trust me on this.”
“Then you had better make sure they know the rules to this new game they all want to play,” I warn.
Although I have every intention of going after him and the rest of them one day. When the time is right, I’ll bury him—and all the others here who’ve built their power on lies.
A small hand lands on my back. “Everything all right?”
