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“Sounds pretty fucking good now, huh?”
“You’re damn right, it does,” I say, eyeing the casket a little more closely. “Who the fuck is in there?”
Carver shakes his head. “I’ve got no fucking idea.”
I roll my eyes and watch as the casket is placed upon the table in front of us. The men all take a second, paying their respects before turning and walking back to their wives to take their seats. Grayson, King, and Cruz linger though, letting their grief shine through just in case Paris has some of her men seated in the crowd. Though, I guess it doesn’t matter. It’ll only be a matter of time before they all know my death was faked.
The boys turn to take their seats with their families and I watch as Cruz sits beside his mother only to be snubbed and ignored, and while I hate that for him, I’m not going to lie—it kinda feels good. After all, Cruz would have been as honest as he could be with his mother and told her that it was his actions that killed me, and she would have punished him for it, even if it meant saving her other sons.
“It is with a heavy heart that I stand before you today to bid farewell to our great leader, last of her line, Elodie Ravenwood,” Earnest starts. “She was a rising star who valued honesty and change and no doubt, given the time, would have achieved many incredible successes that those who follow could have only dreamed about. She had a fighting spirit, but her time was brutally cut short and that spirit will forever remain in the hearts of her people. It has come time for us to say farewell to the true heir of Dynasty and remember all that she has done for us in her short reign. We will not mourn. We will not shed a tear of grief. Instead, we celebrate her one last time, knowing that she is home with her loving parents, Andrew and London Ravenwood.”
My eyes grow watery and I blink back the tears, desperately trying not to get emotional over something that hasn’t even happened.
“Many of you did not get the chance to know Elodie on a personal level, you did not get the opportunity to know her story or her heart. So, I invite Grayson Beckett, a close acquaintance of Elodie’s, who has prepared a few words in the hopes that Elodie’s people could have known where she came from and how she became such a strong and caring leader.”
There’s nothing but silence through the cathedral as Earnest moves away from the dais and takes his seat. Grayson stands and makes his way to the stage, buttoning his suit jacket as he goes with a stack of papers in his hands, no doubt the eulogy that he wrote for me.
“You didn’t tell me Grayson had written a speech,” I mutter to Carver, unable to tear my eyes off Grayson as he looks out at the sea of bodies before him.
“I didn’t know,” Carver fires back.
“Elodie Ravenwood was a survivor,” Grayson starts, standing proud and tall while making my heart shatter into a million pieces. Maybe I was wrong to come here today. It’s too real, all these people grieving and sobbing for me and Grayson saying goodbye despite knowing that I’ll be sleeping in his arms tonight. It’s too much. “At the young age of two months old, Elodie was torn from her loving parents in a callous attack, one that we as a community will feel until our dying days. That night, Andrew and London Ravenwood were brutally murdered by the very people they trusted, leaving their baby girl alone and unprotected in this world filled with corruption. I don’t know how she survived that night, but someone was watching over her.
“Unknown to the rest of Dynasty, Elodie was put into foster care. She traveled from home to home, not knowing her true identity as she battled being in the system. It wasn’t kind to her, but she wasn’t kind in return. Foster care is where she grew up, where she gained her strength and her no-bullshit attitude. Despite how she hated it, it molded her into the fierce, relentless, and often reckless woman that I had the pleasure of falling in love with.”
Ahhhh, fuck. I need to be in his arms.
I stand, raising my chin with pride, and walk out from behind the massive vases keeping me concealed. Grayson notices me straight away and a wide grin stretches across his face as gasps of horror and confusion start filling the cathedral.
I ignore every little sound and walk straight into Grayson’s welcoming arms and stretch up onto my tippy-toes, pressing my lips to his in a long-awaited kiss. “I love you too,” I murmur. “I couldn’t let you say the rest of that speech. That’s our story, not theirs.”
