Page 49 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

The grief hits out of nowhere. It’s been years since I’ve felt his loss so acutely. But as I stare at the floor, as I remember his bighearted laugh and his quiet support, even when I pushed him away that first year, the sadness invades.

I never should have let my guard down with Sophaya. That’s what caring does. It doesn’t just make you vulnerable to one person. It strips you of your control, leaves you open to pain.

“Dom?”

Cassian and Aiden are looking at me now with concern.

I shove my grief down and give them a nod. “Let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later we’re in the gardens, standing on a stone terrace with the sea at our backs and a towering, moss-covered cliff soaring up to the sky on one side. A white arch draped in flowers like the ones from last night’s ball is center stage. White chairs line the aisle.

My brothers stand at my side. The queen is seated in the front row next to a chair reserved for the king.

A violinist seated off to the side strikes up a quiet, melodious tune. Two bridesmaids walk down the aisle. Distant cousins, if I remember right. Then Rosalina walks down the aisle with a little white basket filled with rose petals. The sight of her huge grin and red dress tied with a white sash teases a smile from me.

Then the priest instructs us to stand. My eyes latch onto the end of the aisle.

And then, there she is. Dressed in an ivory-colored gown with long, lacy sleeves, she’s beautiful. My chest tightens as I fight the inner voice urging me to let my guard down. I want to let go.

But I can’t. I picture my mother turning away and walking down the porch stairs, the ambulance doors closing on my grandmother, the clap on the shoulder John gave me before the elevator doors closed and whisked him away for the last time.

The temptation nearly overwhelms the pain. But I fight it back, reassert my control as my bride draws closer. Her smile falters. I give her a small smile to reassure her. Her frown disappears, but I can tell she still doesn’t fully believe me.

After accepting her hand, I break the rules and lean in, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You look beautiful. Again.”

Her shoulders relax. “And you look handsome.”

She hands her bouquet to one of the bridesmaids. The ceremony begins, with the priest speaking in both English and French. I keep my eyes on Sophaya, rubbing my thumb in small circles on the back of her hand. Not just to soothe her but to help me stay grounded in the moment.

We say our vows. The priest smiles.

“You may kiss the bride.”

I reach up and cup her cheek, lower my head and brush my lips across hers. She sighs into my mouth. Need ignites, and I deepen the kiss, my hand firming on her jaw.

The sound of applause breaks through. I pull back, stare down at the woman who is now my wife. She gazes back at me with an answering desire. But there’s something else, too. Something sweet and loving that both thrills and terrifies me that reignites the temptation and pulls me so close to the edge I almost let go.

Before I can act, a whirring sound catches my attention. Instantly on alert, I look at Arthur and the bodyguards as they scatter around the perimeter of the garden. Their eyes are trained on the sky.

“Evacuate!” I yell a moment before a helicopter roars overhead. The whipping blades create a windstorm that tears through the garden, knocking over chairs and ripping petals off the flowers as guests flee.

Sophaya pulls out of my grasp. I turn and reach for her as she grabs Rosalina and pulls the flower girl into her arms. I lunge and wrap my own body around Sophaya, lowering us all to the ground as chaos explodes around us. Beneath the shrieks and screams of the guests, the roar of the wind and the buzzing of the helicopter, I can hear Sophaya speaking to Rosalina.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

I tighten my arms around them. A moment later someone is grabbing my arm, trying to pull me up. I push them off.

“Your Highness!”

I turn my head and realize it’s Arthur. Four more bodyguards are behind him, forming a perimeter around us.

I glance up overhead. The helicopter is easing up into the sky away from the gardens. A moment later a police helicopter comes into view. I stand and guide Sophaya to her feet. She keeps her arms wrapped around Rosalina, who’s clinging to Sophaya with tears tracing down her cheeks.

“Go with Arthur.”

Sophaya nods dully as she looks around at the shredded garden. Fear hits me as she turns that blank gaze on me. “I’m sorry, Dominic.”