Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Bring Her To Me.
That’s it, nothing more. No name, no signature.
But I know who did this.
I look back at Seamus. He’s staring at the words, his jaw flexing. His men are dead silent. One lights another cigarette.
I slowly get to my feet and brush my hands on my jeans.
“I want six men watching my place at all times. I want double that waiting for us tomorrow morning at nine sharp.”
“What’s happening at nine?” Seamus asks.
I stare at the words. I look at the body.
No more waiting. I can’t drag this out forever. Senesi is going to get more and more aggressive unless I do something, and there’s really only one solution.
“I’m getting married.”
Chapter 17
Casey
Iwake feeling groggy and still tired. I hear Declan downstairs grinding espresso beans. It takes me too long to drag myself out of bed. The clock says it’s a little past eight when I finally stumble down the stairs and into the kitchen.
More bad dreams plagued me. Honestly, the only night I haven’t been haunted by nightmares is when I slept with Declan two days ago. That should probably tell me something, but I don’t like the message.
I stand and stare at my husband, frowning, and not sure what to make of him.
He’s wearing a suit. And not just an average one. It’s his best, straight from a custom designer here in the city. It’s sleek and fits him like a glove. I’d bet it’s obscenely expensive, but it’s worth every penny, especially considering how good he looks in it.
“Morning,” he says as he brews himself a flat white.
“Why are you all dressed up?” I squint at him and glance over at the kitchen table. A dress bag is left draped over one of the chairs as light streams in through the windows. I swear I can see my fingerprints still left from where we had sex. “And what’s that?”
“I had to move up our timeline.” He takes a sip and watches me carefully. “That bag has your dress.”
“Timeline? Dress? What are you talking about?”
He checks his watch. “In about forty minutes, we’re leaving for city hall. A judge I’m friendly with will perform our wedding ceremony.”
Cold dread fills my stomach. I stare at him and try to decide whether he’s kidding or not. “I thought… we were having a wedding?”
“Not anymore.”
“But we weren’t supposed to make it official for weeks.”
“Weeks, minutes, hours, it doesn’t make a difference.” He leans against the counter, his face hard and uncompromising. “Go get dressed.”
I bristle at his tone. There’s nothing patient in him. This is Boss Bastard at his finest, and I want to kick him in the teeth.
“You don’t get to just make demands. That’s not how our relationship works.”
“We never actually discussed any rules around the wedding itself.”
“Come on, you’re just being difficult.”
“No, I’m not. You’re marrying me today. You don’t have any other options.” He pushes off the counter and gestures at the table. “The contract is there. Take a look at it. Everything we discussed and nothing more.”
My head spins. I glare at him, so pissed I can barely breathe. “I haven’t even seen the dress!”
“My mother picked it out. She’s got good taste. At least, she better, considering how much it cost.”
He sips his coffee and walks toward me. I’m shaking, I’m so mad. This guy acts like he owns me. It’s like whenever I think we’re figuring out how to live together, he does something new to infuriate me.
“I won’t be ready in time,” I say quietly as he stands in front of me. “This is crazy. I want to read that contract before I sign it.”
“Get started.” He holds his coffee mug out. “Here. This should help.”
I take it from him, just to be petty. “Go away.”
“I’ll be waiting. We’re leaving at eight-fifty. Not a second later.”
“Bossy asshole.”
He disappears upstairs. I stand alone in the kitchen, my body vibrating.
This is happening too fast. I wanted time to prepare myself. I figured I’d go shopping with Sheila, plan some of the ceremony and reception details, and try to make it my own.
Instead, I’m wearing a dress I’ve never seen.
And I won’t have a maid of honor either.
I slump forward. God, Natalie’s dead. She was never going to be at my wedding, whether it’s today or two weeks from now. She’s gone, and I don’t know how I can keep moving.
But it’s not like that’ll stop Declan from getting what he wants.
Boss Bastard doesn’t give a damn about some petty thing like grief.
Frustrated and powerless, I go to the table. The contract is straightforward, and I have no clue if it’s legal or not, but it does stipulate how much money he’ll deposit in my account every month for the rest of my life.
It’s enough that I’ll never have to work again.
I unzip the dress bag once I’ve initialed and signed. I stare at the lace and silk. It’s simple, pretty, and surprisingly elegant. I wouldn’t have chosen it…