She takes a breath and sniffles. “I spent twenty years building walls, building a company, building a life that kept people out. I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone.” She looks at me. “And then you showed up. Cocky, infuriating, impossibly stubborn?—”
“Charming,” I say.
“Don’t push it.”
More laughter from our audience follows.
“You were relentless and pushed your way into my heart. You made me feel things I swore I’d never feel. And when I tried to run, you didn’t let me.”
“I’m never gonna let you run.”
“I know.” She smiles and swipes away another stray tear. “That’s why I’m here. Because you fought for me. For us. Even when I made it impossible.” She squeezes my hands. “I love you, Lochlan. I trust you. And I choose you. Today and every day after.”
“And now, the rings,” the priest says. Ronan hands me hers, Luna hands her mine. We slide them on each other’s hands, grinning like idiots.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Again.” The priest smiles. “You may now kiss your bride.”
I pull her in and kiss her deeply like no one’s watching. She laughs against my mouth, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me back just as hard, just as desperately.
Our families cheer and whistle.
I grin against her lips, holding her tight.
I’ve got her. For real this time.
And I’m never letting her go.
The reception is on the rooftop terrace of a small restaurant. It sits on a cliff overlooking the water. Fairy lights are strung overhead, looped in white tulle. The view of Santorini is spectacular, but nowhere near as incredible as the view I have of my wife as we have our first dance together. I spin her around the terracotta tile as the band plays “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra.
Everyone looks happy and relaxed, mingling together like we’re all old friends instead of mafia rivals. Well, almost everyone. Luna still looks at me like she’s waiting for me to screw up. That’s fine. I can be charming as hell. I’ll win her over eventually. I gotta respect her loyalty. My brothers would be the same way if the tables were turned. Even Ronan.
I can sense something is off with Wolfe. He’s been distracted all day. Even now, he’s here physically, but I’ve seen him check his phone about ten times since the last course was served. I watch as he peers at the screen. The crease between his eyebrows that means something’s bothering him.
I find him on the edge of the terrace after dinner, away from the noise, staring at his phone again.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He looks up, focusing his eyes on me for a second before speaking. “Fine.”
“Bullshit. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing that can’t wait. Tonight’s your wedding night. I’m not going to?—”
“Wolfe.”
He lets out a sigh. “Someone’s been poking around our systems. Ours and the DiMichelis’. I’ve been tracking them for a few weeks.”
“Is it the Kozlovs?” The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. “Those motherfuckers better not be screwing around after the deal was signed.”
“I don’t know yet.” He pushes his glasses farther up his nose. “But whoever it is, they’re good. Really good. Patient. They don’t rush, don’t get greedy. They know what they’re doing.”
“But you’ll catch them.”
“Eventually.” Something flickers in his expression. Not frustration. It’s more like intrigue. “They almost got past my second firewall last week. No one’s ever gotten that close.”
Coming from Wolfe, that’s practically a compliment. My brother doesn’t impress easily.
“Sounds like you might actually admire them.”
