Standing on the balcony of the manor, I stare down at the beautifully decorated gardens below. We’ve spent the past month planning every perfect little detail of this wedding right down to the placement of the rose petals on all the chairs, until one last-minute change that struck me last night.
I didn’t want rose petals along the aisle anymore. I wanted a perfectly pristine white sheet leading from the door to the altar where Cormac will marry us. Anastasia’s face at the news amuses me even now as I replay her eye twitch and her promise to see it done so that everything will be perfect.
And it looks perfect.
Down below, guards and guests slowly fill the seats on either side of the aisle. With Hexagon well and truly squashed, the surviving Irish families came out of hiding and were overjoyed to learn Cormac is still alive, although he’s choosing to take a back seat in leadership these days. Rather than one Captain, he’s ruling as a trio with Cian and Saoirse, and it works out perfectly. The Italians have been working hard to get a lot of the fallenbusinesses back on track, which involves a lot of money between the Russians and the Cartel, but Anastasia refuses to let her two biggest competitors sink under thanks to Hexagon.
But the business side of things is much calmer compared to the personal lives flourishing among the scarred people mingling down below. Cormac and his wife Evelyn remain on the outskirts to keep an eye on the children. Rocky and his wife Sarah sit on one side of the aisle deep in conversation with Bruno, who has his hand firmly in Saoirse’s while she leans across the aisle to converse with Anastasia and Erik on the other side. Cian stands at the altar with his mother tweaking his bow tie for the umpteenth time. He doesn’t seem to mind, gazing at her with love in his eyes and the sweet, deep relief that she’s back with them where she belongs.
The years have been hard on everyone and it will take some time for the criminal underworld to recover.
But we will. I have no doubt about that.
Turning away from the balcony, I step back into my room and move in front of the floor-length mirror. My dress is a pristine white lace around the bodice with bare shoulders and arms. The lace drips down to the silky, figure-hugging skirt that hugs my legs with every step but rests nicely around the bump in my belly.
This time last year, my life was a wreck. A man who loves me, a family, and a baby were nothing more than a distant dream impossible for a woman like me.
Now it all waits for me outside and I can barely contain my excitement.
Pinning the last of my curls in place, I caress my belly and adjust the angle of the mirror so I can admire how snugly the dress fits. Anastasia mentioned hiding my bump once for the pictures, but I silenced that immediately. I want my child to be a part of this and if all they can do is show up in the wedding pictures, then that’s what I want.
But these shoes arekillingme.
Gripping the side of the mirror, I kick off the kitten heels and groan softly as blood flow returns to my toes.
“No one talks about the swollen feet,” comes Saoirse’s voice from the doorway. “Ankles and legs? Sure. But your feet doubling in size? I guess there’s some taboo still there.”
“The joys,” I groan with a smile. “I thought I could make it down the aisle in them but I think I’d lose them. It’ll get better, though, right?”
“The swelling?” She walks closer and joins me in the reflection. “No, it’ll get worse. But you don’t need to worry until you start getting black hairs on your nipples and those stabbing pains in your vagina. That’s the real test.”
“Excuse me?” My brows dart up to my hairline. “Nipple hair?”
She grins at me in the mirror. “Yes.”
“I wasn’t planning on testing my marriage that early.” I chuckle.
“If Cian runs at the sight of nipple hair, then he’s not the man we think he is.”
“That’s true.”
“Are you okay?” Saoirse’s expression softens as she turns to me. “Anastasia told me you didn’t want anyone walking you down the aisle.”
“It… it didn’t feel appropriate. Everyone’s here as a couple and I thought it would be weird for me to point out that I don’t actually come with anyone. Dead father. No siblings. Just me.”
“Faina…” Saoirse shakes her head. “Don’t think like that.”
“It’s part of the ritual, I think. I never thought I’d get married, and having a baby at my age?” My hand returns to my belly. “Everything feels like a dream, so I didn’t think much of it.”
“This isn’t a dream,” she replies while offering me her elbow. “You’re going to be my sister. You saved my brother. You saved my family, and I know we all wouldn’t be standing here without you. It would be my honor to walk you down the aisle and give you to a man who barely deserves you.”
We laugh together as I observe her elbow, but I hesitate to touch her. “What if he wakes up and realizes this is a mistake? That he confused relief at you all being alive with love for me?”
Saoirse shakes her head and reaches up, gently touching my cheek with the back of her hand. “Faina. I know my twin. I lost him twice and I won’t lose him a third time, but during those times, I learned something. He doesn’t half-ass anything. He knows his feelings and he follows them through to the end. He loves you, Faina. I see it every time I look at him. You saved more than just his life. You saved his heart.”
Her words are so gentle that they almost bring tears to my eyes. I gaze upward, barely blinking as I try to stop them from falling. “Oh no, my makeup!”
“It’s bad luck to make a bride cry, right?” Saoirse groans. “I’m going to hell on a fast pass.”
