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“Three days.”
“Up security. I want it tripled. We’ll talk again this afternoon,” I reply as I open my laptop and I begin to scroll through e-mails, ready to start the day.
“Will do, boss.” Axle gets up and grabs his paper, chuckling as if relieved. “I was sure you’d be more pissed off than that after the news this morning.”
I pause and glance up. “What news?”
His laughter dies on his lips and he swallows. “You know, the news. About Lou.”
My heart nearly comes to a standstill at the sound of her name. “What about her?”
“There’s a wedding announcement. In the paper.”
I extend my hand and he shakily gives it back to me. The first thing I see when I unfold it is a photograph of the woman I almost married five years ago. She’s in the arms of some rich douchebag who thinks he’s a gangster because he occasionally gambles illegally.
The nuptials of Peter Deacon from Martha’s Vineyard and Louisa Duran of Boston, to be celebrated this evening at Saint Mary’s…
The paper crumples in my hands. My vision goes red as blood.
“Boss,” Axle whispers.
“Get the men rounded up. We have a wedding to attend.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he walks out, I turn to peer out the window, my hand tight on the hilt of the gun at my waist. If Lou thinks she’s going to marry another man after she gave herself to me, she is sorely mistaken.
* * *
