Page 118 of Black Reign

Staff.

Musicians.

Family.

Women in silk.

Men in tuxedos.

Someone carrying champagne.

Someone adjusting flowers.

Someone laughing beside the fountain.

Vesper is here.

Somewhere.

Watching.

Again.

“No one leaves.”

Kane turns sharply.

“Can we maybe save the lockdown, interrogations, and full-body searches until after I exchange vows?”

“I need to identify every⁠—”

“Blackwell.”

Drew steps directly in front of me.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Travers.”

“No.”

“I don’t have time.”

“You have all day. Haverhill has forty minutes.”

“Thirty-seven,” Kane says.

Drew points at him.

“Go get married.”

Kane looks between us. “I’d really like confirmation nobody is planning to assassinate me first.”

Drew glances toward Sergei.

Sergei shrugs.