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Sin places his hand on my thigh. “He’s fine.”

“When he lies, may it be beside you. Or in a court of law so he may keep all you wankers out of the slammer.” The crowd breaks into laughter and I’m marginally relieved. But he isn’t finished.

“When he cheats, may it be death.” I hear what sounds like the murmurs of hundreds saying “aye” in unison. “Seems he already has that one down since he’s managed to dodge the grave twice now.” I hear more gleeful sounds but I still brace myself for what could come next.

Leith is full of lingering anger with Sin, and it has nothing to do with me. It may take a little digging but I fully intend on finding out what’s going on between them.

“When he steals, may it be your heart and your kisses. Or whatever is of value from The Order when the opportunity presents itself.”

The brotherhood bursts into cheers. I look at Sin and roll my eyes. I can’t believe Leith is turning his best man toast into jokes about lying in court and stealing from The Order.

Leith holds up his glass for what I think is a final statement. At least, I hope that’s what it is. He’s still making me nervous.

“The traditional toast says, ‘If you drink, drink deeply of the joy of your new life together.’ While we all wish that for our happy leader and his bride, I say to everyone: drink deeply tonight in honor of them. Congratulations, Sin and Bleu. May we all know love that will push us above and beyond any limits standing in the way.”

“Finally,” I say beneath my breath as I bring my champagne up for a drink.

Sin laughs while drinking to Leith’s toast. “Did you really think he would say something in poor taste?”

I heard the things Leith said to Sin in the ring the day they fought. There’s bad blood there. “I only know one thing. Never trust a drunk holding a mic.”

“Good point. But it’s done now and all is well.”

The toasts continue far too long. Everyone in the brotherhood wants to offer their congratulations and well wishes for our marriage … and future children. There are so many toasts, I’m on my way to drunkenness without intending it.

We’re nearing the last of the well-wishers when Sin puts his hand on my leg beneath the table. He leans over to whisper in my ear and his warm breath ignites chills down my body. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

He pulls away. He scans my face and leans back to take a look below the table. “What is that?”

“My Beretta.”

“You’re wearing a wedding dress with a gun strapped to your thigh?”

I shrug. “Almost every Fellowship member is gathered here. It would be crazy to not be prepared in case of an invasion.”

“My wife has a pistol hidden beneath her dress. That is fucking hot.”

“I might let you take it off me later.”

Sin removes his hand from my thigh and takes my hand. “Dance with me, Mrs. Breckenridge.”

I’ve been his wife going on two months and I still get chills when he calls me that. I hope it never stops.

We move to the dance floor and he takes me in his arms as we sway to the band’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight.”

“My husband is a very good dancer.” His movements are smooth despite his amputation.

The solitary dimple makes an appearance. “Only when I have the right partner.”

I follow Sin’s lead. “I’m not a great dancer but I feel like I am when I’m with you.”

“Everything we do in life is going to be great as long as we do it together.”

“I know.” I move closer and place my head against his chest.

I look forward to all the great things we’re going to do together. I love being a wife but I miss being a daughter and sister. It hurts every day. “I wish Dad and Ellison were here. And both of my moms. I miss all of them so much.”

“I know. I sometimes hear you cry when you’re alone for your soaks in the tub.”

He’s given me those moments to myself. I appreciate him granting me the distance I need. He is my husband but those private times remain very important. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

We dance but I’m preoccupied by one of the toasts a brother made. I’m hesitant to bring it up. I don’t want to put a damper on the good time we’re having but I can’t help myself. “Todd Cockburn’s toast was interesting.”

“How so?”

“He called me your Bleubird.”

“Purely coincidental.”

“It’s weird since that’s what my mother called me.”

“You crossed him off the list. He didn’t pan out.”

“I know.”

Sin stops moving. I immediately worry I’ve angered him by bringing up the investigation during our wedding celebration.

“May I have this dance with my new niece?” Every hair stands on the back of my neck.

I don’t have to see him to know it’s Abram.

“It’s fine,” I say to Sin. He doesn’t look convinced so I nod.

Abram can’t hurt me for two reasons. First, I’m Fellowship, just as he is. I’m the wife of his future leader. Secondly, we’re in front of the entire brotherhood. But I’m no fool. I’m quite aware the latter is the only thing assuring my safety for the time being.

I don’t trust this man.

Abram takes my hand and leads me in a basic box step. Moving with him on the dance floor feels like dancing with the devil. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular. I just want to dance with my niece.”

“Bullshit.”

“Such a lady.”

“And you’re always such a gentlemen.”

“Westlyn tells me you’ve been doing a lot of socializing with the women since your return.”

“I don’t know them. I need to remedy that if I’m to be any kind of leader.”

“Stay away from my daughters.”

His voice oozes acid. Good. I think it could be a sign he actually cares for his girls.

I barely know Evanna but Westlyn is becoming a dear friend. I’ve never had that before so I don’t intend on giving up our friendship so easily. “Despite what you may believe about me, I’m not the enemy. I’m committed to The Fellowship and its well-being.”

“You’ll never convince me of that.”

I’m suddenly shoved from behind, sending my body crashing into the psychopath. He breaks my fall and reaches out to grab the arm of the culprit—a small girl playing chase with three other children. “Whoa. Slow it down there, toots. You wouldn’t want to knock your future leader’s wife onto her bum in her pretty dress.”

Toots. Toots? Toots! That’s what my mother’s killer called me before placing a pillow over my face.

It could be nothing. Or it could be something. Either way, I think I may be adding a new color of sticky note to my wall of suspects. One representing Abram Breckenridge.

Chapter Fourteen

Sinclair Breckenridge

I watch every move Abram makes with my wife. Every step. Every turn. I don’t trust him with Bleu and I don’t expect to any time soon. How can I when he had men hunting her as our enemy only a few short weeks ago?

I’m alarmed when I see her shoved against him—even if it’s an accident by a small lass not looking where she’s going. I instantly go into defense mode. I bolt across the temporary dance floor.

“Are you all right?”

“I was bumped by a little girl. I’m fine.”

“I can see your husband is ready to have his wife returned to him.”

Abram takes Bleu’s hand and kisses the top. “Congratulations again on your nuptials. May you deliver many healthy sons and daughters as heirs to The Fellowship.”

That son of a bitch.

Bleu yanks her hand from his. Her face pales. “Come dance with me.”

She doesn’t move so I encourage her with a tighter grasp. “Now, Bonny.”

She comes but not happi

ly. I pull her into a close embrace. She’s stiff, not returning my affectionate hold. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed him near you.”

It’s my job to protect her, and that includes from Abram.

“He knows about my fertility problems.”

She need not even think I’ve confided in him—or anyone else—about what’s going on. “I haven’t told anyone. I swear.”

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