Page 79 of Ruthless Reign

I had my real brothers here; no one would ever replace Castor and Pollux in my heart. But these two knuckleheads had been with me through it all. KC and Hollywood were my best friends, my ride or dies, my brothers in spirit if not by blood.

“Thank you both,” I said, glancing between them as a wave of sentimentality hit me square in the chest. “Thank you for being here, for always having my back.”

“Hey, don’t start that shit,” KC said, pointing accusingly at me. “Hollywood’s gonna start crying and then I’m gonna have to clean him up before V kicks all of our asses.”

Hollywood wiped at his eye and sniffed. “I’m not crying, you’re crying, you son of a bitch.”

KC shook his head and laughed. “You got it, prez. I couldn’t have done anything without you, ya know?”

“We’re with you till the end.” Hollywood clamped my hand and pulled me into a one-armed hug before stepping back and playfully smacking my cheek. “Even if you are a short-dicked, hot-tempered piece of shit.”

“Oh, so you want to spend my wedding day on your back staring up at the sky with a bloody nose?” I tapped him back a little harder than he’d hit me.

“You couldn’t catch me if you tried.” He punched my stomach, and I nearly collapsed. But I wouldn’t let him win that easily.

“Hollywood, I’ve been kicking your ass since?—”

“Enough,” KC cut in, putting his arms out between us. “If either of you ends up bloody today, Sunshine’s gonna kickmyass, and I don’t make a habit of pissing off my wife. Understand?”

I narrowed my eyes at KC, but ultimately gave Hollywood a nod of agreement. It wasn’t the right time to go running off into a wrestle.

“Besides,” KC said, “no one’s dick is as big as mine, and I could take you both out with one hand.”

Hollywood stared gape-jawed at KC, but I burst into hysterics, needing the laugh to soothe my nerves.

My brothers and I took our spots in front of the archway as the rest of the “guests” filled in the chairs on either side. Most of them were members from the other clubs, and when Lore showed up last night with the Indiana crew in tow, I started to feel a little better about all of this. Of course, aside from my family in the club and the MC princesses, neither of us had any real family here. Chesco would arrive when his father did and Julia didn’t want to drag Della into this more than she already was. So it was just down to strangers and other Roses to bear witness to the greatest lie I ever told.

Of course, it didn’t feel like a lie when the music started playing and my sister appeared at the end of the aisle. She walked between the rows of seats, carrying a bouquet before stopping at the far end of the arch. Ru came next, followed by Selene, and finally Alba. And when I saw Julia standing at the end, wearing a beautiful strapless gown, holding on to Leo for dear life, I almost cried.

My heart pounded and my legs shook, and for a moment, one blissful heartbeat, I pretended this was real. I pretended my father was sitting in the front row and Julia’s uncles were on the other side, and she was gleefully walking down the aisle to hand the rest of her life over to me. She looked stunning, her hair falling in beautiful curls down her back, a radiance shining out of her that reminded me of those ancient paintings of Goddesses.

When Leo and Julia stood in front of me, I had to blink myself back to reality.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” Saint said from his spot in front of the arch.

“I do,” Leo said, “on behalf of her bloodline, her family, and her friends.”

He placed her hand in mine, and the weight of the world suddenly disappeared. I looked into her deep mahogany eyes and saw my entire future play out for me. I saw our kids growing up in a world where they wouldn’t have to worry about a war hanging over their heads. I saw her with gray around her temples, looking just as gorgeous for her age, and me with wrinkles at the corners of my eyes. I saw us playing the same games in twenty, thirty, forty years, enjoying it just as much. And I wanted it all.

“Hi, little wife,” I whispered, bringing her hand to my lips for a quick kiss.

“Hello, husband.” She grinned, and we turned to face Saint as he began reciting the planned ceremony.

“You look amazing,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low.

“So do you,” she said. “Such a shame it’s going to be ruined.”

“Once this is over, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” I murmured. “We’ll get married on every island in Greece, if that’s what you want.”

“Careful,” she said. “I may hold you to that.”

I prayed she did. I prayed we made it out of this in one piece, that luck really was on our side for once. Saint went on with his speech, praising the merits of union and throwing a little jazz on some of the verbiage we’d selected, but we didn’t want the ceremony to last forever. The anticipation of what was to come hung over us like smog, choking everything into a haze.

Gabriella Caputi could come out of the woodwork any second now, and when she did, this idyllic romance would crash down around us.

“And now, the vows,” Saint said, gesturing for us to face each other.

“Do you, Julia Gianna Francesca Benita Natali Caputi,” Saint said, “take Roman Alexander Montgomery to be your husband, to have and to hold, to honor and protect, to love and defend, for all the days of your life?”

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