Page 63 of Vows of Blood

“I’m due to take over, but he’s been stalling because he’s a stubborn old prick who loves power too much to step back.” He only agreed, making it sound like it was his idea all along, at the last meeting when he was put under pressure by the other families. “I have no doubt he’ll backtrack now that Kate is gone.”

The man has no honor, and his word is meaningless.

She's quiet for a moment, processing. “But he can’t if you marry me, and nobody else has a problem with it?”

“Exactly.” I take her hand in mine. “By bringing you here, I can introduce you to them before he can do anything to stop me.”

Sienna pales at that, knowing my father will almost certainly try. She pulls her hand back, turning to stare outside. “So if they don’t like me, the deal is off? You’ll have no use for me.”

I study her profile, her reflection ghosted in the glass. "They’ll like you," I state, with absolute certainty.

"How can you know that?"

"Because nobody would be stupid enough to say otherwise."

She sighs and laughs, thinking that I’m joking. "The big wedding… is that absolutely necessary? It’s not really my thing."

“Sienna, whatever is normal in this world is now your thing.” Seeing her disappointment, my irritation grows. Most women would love a big, fairytale wedding with no expense spared. "It's not even a real wedding anyway," I remind her, making the frown lines between her eyebrows deepen.

I shift in my seat, annoyed that her reaction matters so much to me.

"You used to talk about getting married in a barn. A bunch of wealthy old men won’t go for that," I snap, apparently deciding to worsen the mood between us by shoving my foot even further into my mouth. Knowing she’s probably unimpressed by my comment, I turn away to do my own glaring out the window.

"What did you say?" she whispers, resting on my knee as she leans forward. She’s gaping at me when I turn, surprised by her touch.

"A converted barn. Somewhere in the countryside," I scoff, waving my hand in the air as my confusion grows. Why does this matter? I’ve already said it’s not going to happen. "You wanted white flowers everywhere, lots of candles, and just close friends and family. But that’s not an option, Sienna.” I scoff. “They’d think we’re going broke."

Her lips part, stunned. "You remember all that? After all this time?"

Oh.

I meet her gaze, needing to make sure she knows my next words are the truth. "I remember everything. I just can’t give it to you."

For a moment, neither of us moves, knowing I’m talking about more than her dream wedding day.

The city continues to slide past the windows, but inside the car, time seems to stop until Tony taps the glass to indicate we’re almost there. The venue, a sprawling mansion in the middle of the poshest part of Chicago, is lit up like a Christmas tree. Valets are already moving toward us.

“Listen to me, Sienna. These are not nice people. These are dangerous people.” I squeeze her knee once before pulling my hand away. "I need you to follow my lead. Stay close to Tony and Nico if I’m pulled away."

She nods, squaring her shoulders, and I watch the transformation happen in real time, her nerves disappearing behind a mask of composure.

I step out of the car first, then turn to offer her my hand. She takes it, her fingers warm in mine, and she rises elegantly from the back seat.

The valet's eyes linger a beat too long on the slit in her dress, and I fight back the urge to break his jaw.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” Tony warns him, and the valet rears back, stuttering out his apologies as Tony drops the keys into his palm. He’s lucky that look will only cost him his tip and not his life.

I pull Sienna close, my hand settling possessively on her waist. "Ready?" I murmur against her ear, loving how she melts into me as my lips brush her sensitive skin.

"No." But she’s doing it anyway.

I give her waist a reassuring squeeze then lead her to the entrance with Tony watching our backs.

The doors open before us, and it’s my turn to change, every trace of the softness I’ve let Sienna see disappearing in an instant.

The ballroom is already crowded when we enter, a sea of designer gowns and tailored suits, crystal chandeliers hanging from high vaulted ceilings. Heads turn as we enter. Conversations falter, and a hushed silence falls, every set of eyes tracking our progress across the marble floor.

They weren’t expecting me to come.