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ANNABETH
TWO YEARS LATER
The rose-colored lipstick suits me more today. I smile softly at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is woven into an elaborate up-do of braids and curls, speckled with tiny sparkling crystals that look like stars.
My phone lights up on the vanity and my eyes flit over it, reading the encoded text message. Everyone else will see another congratulations message, but I read the meaning beneath.
Victor Noble’s holdings under suspicion. Investigation proceeding.
The soft smile on my face curls up at the corners as satisfaction glows from within my chest. Dad will finally get everything he deserves. I didn’t believe Cohen when we were coming up with the finer points of our plan during a stay at our cabin, but he swore—swaying in slight drunkenness with a beer bottle in his hand and his bare chest lit by the ambient light from the fireplace—it was going to work.
I’m glad Cohen can prove me wrong like this.
He proved me wrong about this morning, too. As I put the finishing touches on my bridal ensemble, my cheeks heat at the memory of how I woke up this morning: Cohen’s head between my thighs and his wickedly talented tongue working me over. When he was finished taking me apart he growled against my skin, “Just wanted to make sure you remember until I see you again.”
I laughed and promised I’d see him in a few hours.
Our honeymoon plans involve holing up in the cabin, our secret hideaway where we can shut out the world and just be. It’s become our haven where we shed all of the masks we wear. I can’t wait to have Cohen to myself again.
“How are you feeling, Annie? Nervous?” Gloria Decker brandishes a fresh bottle of champagne across the room. “I was so sick with nerves on my wedding day. I swear, you’d think I was preparing for a lie detector test instead of meeting Morris at church.”
I laugh and wave her off, nodding to my phone. “It’s not nerves. Cohen was saying he can’t wait to see me.”
Despite my initial wariness, Gloria has been great during the planning process. And I did have her with me when my dress was fitted.
Charity’s no longer around. She wisely divorced Dad after I slipped her a heads up that the authorities were putting him under a magnifying glass. Dad hasn’t found a replacement because Cohen has a few loyal guys that keep tabs on Dad and his dates for me. Once Dad makes a move, I take care of it and warn them off before he can get his claws in them.
I’m systematically taking away everything that makes my father happy until he’s left with nothing as payback for the hell he put me through.
Anyone on his side better stay out of my way.
I’m out for blood.
The pop of a cork draws me back to the present. My maid of honor, Margot, cheers and dances over to Cohen’s mom to help with mimosa refills. Margot’s a friend I met last semester before I finished my undergrad. I’m still deciding whether I want to apply to grad school to keep pursuing my interests. Cohen supports me, no matter what I do.
“Cheers, girls!” Gloria calls, toasting with a pale mimosa that’s mostly champagne.
I grin over my shoulder at everyone’s antics.
Gloria’s grown on me in the last couple of years. She comes over and squeezes my shoulder, meeting my gaze in the mirror.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I lick my lips and tilt my head back to look up at her. It’s nice to have her here with me. “Cohen’s a good man. I love him.”
Gloria’s expression softens and she cups my cheek. “You two make each other so happy. It was meant to be from the start. When you were kids, I used to say to Morris that fate tied your souls together.”
A burst of emotion washes over me and I wave my hands in front of my watery eyes to keep my makeup in place.
“Ahh, sorry about that, dear,” Gloria chuckles. “I can’t help it. I’m an old romantic.”
Once I have myself under control, I rise from my seat at the vanity. “It’s time.”
The women in the room grant me last wishes and my stomach flutters with butterflies. I have one more surprise for Cohen today. I reach out and grab a length of delicate black lace from the vanity and pin it into place over my eyes.
* * *
In the limo, my thoughts drift again.
