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Maxwell and a glaring Eleanore. I sniff back a laugh at this because he probably forced her to come here. The dude is weird when it comes to his childhood-friend-turned-enemy-turned-wife, among other things. He somehow mended his relationship with the Price family, and while they will never be close, at least their bond is decent.
If only half these people knew they were attending the wedding with mafia members and serial killers, they’d probably run away.
That’s my family, though. I’d never wish for another.
As we walk closer, I sweep my gaze over the altar, where the rest of the dark four stand as best men, along with Kian, who wears a bored expression on his face, although he winks at me.
And the other sides are their wives, my bridesmaids, and Luna, who walked with Kian. She blows a kiss to her husband. I half expected him to harass Florian to include him in the wedding. This guy takes the word possessive to another level.
Father Paul beams at us in his white mantle while holding the Bible. Happiness practically pours from him as he’s praised Florian for months for doing everything right. Apparently, he got tired of atoning for his sins, aka going through the forced weddings, aka the dark four’s weddings.
The air hitches in my lungs when my eyes connect with Florian’s. He reminds me of a prince wearing a matching sky-blue suit that only enhances his handsomeness.
Love and desire fill his eyes while his possessive gaze glides over me. Goose bumps break out on my skin because I can almost feel his touch announce to everyone that I belong to him.
My neck is so marked that even the makeup artist failed to cover them all up, not that I asked her to.
I love wearing his marks, although I hate it when my brother sees them because Florian always gets hit somehow. It doesn’t help that my man makes me wear my hair up whenever we meet my brother either. They have this whole battle of wills going on.
Men and their irrational behavior, seriously.
“Mama.” A loud squeal echoes through the church, and a smile curves my lips when our fourteen-month-old daughter points at me, then wraps her arms around her father’s neck, resting her cheek against his.
Her shoulder-length blonde locks fall down in waves with several ribbons in them as her signature Price green eyes flash with excitement. Her emerald dress and matching shoes glisten under the sunlight streaming from above.
My beautiful and brave girl survived, whilst breaking the generations-long tradition of becoming the first girl born in her father’s dynasty.
Isabella Octavia Price.
She got her second name in honor of her godfather, without whom she wouldn’t be here.
And in true Price fashion, she’s already wearing diamond earrings specially designed for her by her dad, despite her great-grandfather huffing and puffing that it wasn’t fair. According to him, she should wear only his creations.
I chuckle inwardly, remembering his words in the hospital once he found out about Isabella.
“We are not hyphenating her name, Lucian. Don’t even think about arguing with me about it, or I’m going to show you I still have it in me to box your ears,” Grandpa Atlas hisses, rocking the baby gently in his arms and glaring at my father, who shares a what the fuck look with Uncle Jacob since he never even suggested it. “The first girl born in our family. What an honor.” He kisses her forehead, and she fusses a little, whimpering in displeasure. “I’m going to leave you all my money, little one. Unless your mama gives us more girls, then you’ll have to share.”
“Hey. She might have boys in the future.” Uncle Jacob forcefully takes the baby from him, hugging Isabella and smiling. She instantly calms in his arms. Her grandfathers have this effect on her. “Don’t snub my future grandsons in the inheritance department.”
“I’ll take care of the girls, and you take care of the boys.”
“Deal.”
“Yes, it’s Mama,” Florian replies, and she smacks a loud kiss on his cheek. My girl is a little princess spoiled by everyone in our family, and our parents even came up with a schedule to make sure no one hogs her.
But she’s a daddy’s girl through and through and adores him so much. She lights up in his company and can’t fall asleep unless he reads her a bedtime story.
I’d be jealous if it wasn’t so adorable.
She wiggles in his hold, so he places her on the floor. She claps and starts moving in my direction when Braiden grabs her hand, halting her movements. He’s wearing a suit because he’s our ring bearer. He tugs her closer to Octavius, and she listens, wobbling after him while grinning up at him.
Octavius picks her up. She giggles and hugs him, cupping his scarred cheek.
My heart is so full I might burst, but I somehow manage to walk the remaining steps calmly without running off toward them all.
Finally, we reach them, and my dad throws my veil back and kisses me on the forehead before giving my hand to Florian, who nods at him.
Dad steps back and goes to sit with Mom, who has tears in her eyes. Her happiness does something to my insides while Uncle Jacob and Aunt Calliope share similar expressions. Florian’s coma shook the entire family, and I think it aged Uncle Jacob ten years. Thank goodness Isabella managed to bring him back from the awful state.
