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I offered a small smile, gratitude warming my heart. “Thank you, father.”
He took a step closer, and there was a hint of nostalgia in his gaze as he spoke. “You remind me so much of your mother, you know. You’ve inherited her strength.”
I smiled, not knowing what to say.
As he looked at me, his eyes held a complexity of emotions. “Today is a significant step, Anastasia, not just for you, but for our family. I want you to know how proud I am of you.”
“That means a lot, father,” I said quietly, smiling softly in his direction.
My father reached into his pocket, producing a small, intricately wrapped box. With a gentle smile, he handed it to me.
“I have a gift for you,” he said, his eyes holding a warmth that was often obscured by the weight of his business dealings.
I carefully unwrapped the box and revealed a delicate locket. It was a stunning piece made of white gold, adorned with intricate filigree and inlaid with diamonds. My breath caught as I opened the locket to find a photograph of my mother inside. My mother had passed away years ago when I was a child. Now, I hardly remembered her.
“This is beautiful,” I said, my voice filled with both surprise and emotion.
I felt a lump form in my throat, touched by such a rare moment of affection from my father. My father was usually all business. To receive such a heartfelt gesture from him was an unexpected treasure, a reminder that beneath the layers of cold business dealings, there was a hint of love for me that he had kept well-hidden.
My father nodded, his eyes softening. “I thought you might appreciate having her close to your heart on this day. She would have been as proud of you as I am.”
He took the delicate locket from my hand and gently fastened it around my neck. I reached up, hesitantly brushed my fingers against the precious metal, and sighed.
I could do this.
My father offered me his arm, and I took it gratefully. With a deep breath, I let him lead me out of my bridal suite into the waiting limousine. I stared out the window as the car pulled away from the hotel and drove through the streets of the city until we pulled up in front of the venue, a beautiful Irish Catholic Church that had stood for more than two hundred years.
It was smack in the middle of Murphy territory.
Its weathered stone façade bore the marks of time, with intricate architectural details that spoke of an era long past. The grand wooden doors were polished to a rich sheen. The church’s towering steeple, a beacon in the heart of the city, was tall enough that I imagined it reaching straight towards the heavens. The ancient, ivy-covered walls had witnessed generations of worshippers here in the city. With such a rich history, it had been an easy choice.
My father led me inside the church. The hushed whispers of the guests filled the air as they took their seats, while the soft glow of candlelight cast a warm and inviting ambiance. Stained glass windows filtered the sunlight into an enchanting tapestry of colors that danced on the polished wooden pews.
The wedding decorations were a seamless blend of white, light blue, and sage green. White roses and delicate hydrangeas, their petals soft as clouds, adorned the altar and the aisles. The scent of the flowers filled the air, adding to the picture of beauty that the church had become.
It was perfect.
My heartbeat quickened in my chest, and a flutter of nervous anxiety passed through me as the string quartet began to play a harmonious melody to announce my imminent procession.
I gazed out over the crowd, seeing Kieran and Leah, Cormac and Caitlin, Ada and Shane, as well as Aidan and Irina. All of them appeared to be especially welcoming, and I wondered how I would fit into their family.
Would they welcome me, too?
As I began my journey down the aisle, my heart pounded in tune with the music, echoing the swift pace of my footsteps. The hundred or so guests turned in their pews, their eyes alight with anticipation of such a monumental wedding.
I turned my head forward and looked to see the man waiting for me at the altar.
Connor watched me with a mixture of awe and desire. His eyes locked with mine, and for a brief moment, the world outside the church ceased to exist.
He was so deliciously handsome.
He looked dashing in his tailored suit, his sage-green tie matching the waistband of my gown. His dark hair was trimmed close to his head, revealing his smoldering blue eyes and strong angular features. His dark, well-trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, enhancing his rugged good looks with a touch of refinement. He gazed back at me, his eyes holding a twinkle of mystery as he grinned in my direction.
His warm smile made each step that much easier.
Not only could I do this, but Iwoulddo this.
I’d only made it halfway down the aisle when a sudden, deafening crash shattered the serenity of the moment. The massive wooden doors splintered open, and time seemed to come to a complete stop as a group of heavily armed men streamed into the church.
