Page 78 of The Devil's Wrath

Kai nodded grimly, his eyes looking up the road. “I think you’re right, brother.”

I followed his gaze, seeing the back of the black security vehicle riddled with bullet holes sticking out of a ditch. This had been a coordinated attack, an assassination designed to take out Thomas Morgan and his family and destabilize The Brotherhood. And I knew who was brazen enough to orchestrate the murder of the top leader of the most powerful organization in New York.

Nikolai Petrov.

The events of that night had changed the course of my life and led me straight into Igor’s hands, leaving me with more than just physical scars.

I cleared my throat, pushing the memories back into the recesses of my mind. “I’ll talk to Gage,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “He deserves to hear it from me.”

Archer nodded, his expression somber. “He does. And you deserve to be happy, Theo. Don’t let the ghosts of the past haunt you forever.”

I managed a tight smile. “Thanks, brother. I’ll make things right with Gage and bring Wrenly to officially meet everyone.”

“What better time than during our rehearsal dinner?” Archer asked tentatively.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Rehearsal dinner?”

“While you’ve been keeping The Brotherhood afloat, Mila and I have settled on a date, and we’d love for you to bring Wrenly.”

I felt a genuine smile spread across my face at the thought of revealing the woman I was in love with. The woman I would make my queen. The woman who would stand by my side for whatever the future held. To finally introduce her to the world she had been born to—the world her father had kept from her before her parents had been murdered. She had become my anchor in the storm, the one bright spot in this world of darkness and danger, and it was time that I showed her where she belonged.

TWENTY-SIX

WRENLY

I’d known the night would come when Theo and Connor would face off in the ring, but I hadn’t thought it would creep up so quickly. I wore a long red dress adorned with shimmering sequins that caught the light as I moved and delicate lace at the sleeves and hem. My hair was swept up in an elegant updo with a few tendrils framing my face. I took a deep breath as the car pulled up to the venue, photographers snapping photos as each person exited their vehicle. This would be headline news, courtesy of Connor’s father, using any opportunities to have the press witness his only son’s achievements. His father would capitalize on it, twisting the narrative and using it to further his reputation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a politician’s son and the son of The Brotherhood’s leading lawyer faced off in a championship boxing match. The reporters eagerly awaited my arrival, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two rivals at odds before the match even began.

Theo wasn’t worried. His only thoughts were on my safety and comfortability and beating Connor’s face in. But I was very familiar with how that family operated, and I couldn’t quell the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he told me, kissing my cheek. “You look stunning. I’m so lucky.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his reassurance; his confidence was infectious. He looked dashing in his tailored black suit, his dark hair slicked back and his tie matching my dress. His eyes were locked on mine as he stepped out of the car first. A confident smile played on his lips, but I could see the tension in his jaw. He extended his arm to me, and I took it, letting him guide me through the throng of reporters and flashing cameras. We made our way down the red carpet, stopping occasionally to pose for photos and answer a few questions from eager reporters.

“Theo! Over here!” the reporters shouted, clamoring for his attention. He gave them a charming smile and a wave but kept his arm firmly around my waist.

My eyes scanned the area, searching for Connor. I spotted him across the way, surrounded by his friends and father, who dramatically gestured as they talked to the press. Connor looked every bit the golden boy in his crisp white tuxedo, his blonde hair perfectly coiffed. But when his eyes met mine, there was a coldness in them that sent shivers down my spine.

Theo must have sensed my unease because he pulled me closer. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ve got this.”

As we entered the venue from the back, the energy shifted. The air was thick with anticipation, and the sound of the crowd grew louder with each step we took. We made our way through the dimly lit hallway, the flickering fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow on the walls. Theo’s locker room was across the hall from Connor’s, and I did my best to ignore the hoops and hollers from that direction.

The venue had set up a table with refreshments, so I poured myself a drink as Theo undressed and got into his boxing shorts. My hands trembled slightly as I sipped the cold water, trying to calm my nerves before Theo noticed. I hadn’t intended to be so affected by seeing Connor again, but the last time I’d seen him, he’d slammed me against my car, wearing the same cold look in his eyes.

I turned around, still sipping my water while watching Theo’s muscular physique on full display. He exuded quiet confidence as he wrapped his hands methodically. That was one of my favorite thingsabout him. He never had to fill the silence. He was content with observing, only speaking when he had something worthwhile to say.

I smiled as I watched him move with fluid grace, his muscles rippling under his skin as he shadowboxed in the corner of the room. Cavan stood nearby, offering words of encouragement and last-minute advice.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see one of the event coordinators poking his head in. “Five minutes until showtime,” he announced before disappearing into the hallway.

Theo nodded, taking a deep breath as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He turned to me, his eyes softening as he took in my worried expression. “Hey,” he said gently, crossing the room to take my hands. “I’ve got this. Trust me.”

I nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I do trust you,” I whispered. “I just hate that you have to confront him.”

He cupped my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “He can’t touch you,” he promised. “He will never touch you again. I won’t let him. Tonight, I will make him regret ever stepping into the ring with me.” He pressed a tender kiss to my lips before pulling back. “I love you,” he said firmly. “And I’m going to win this for you.”

“I love you,” I responded.

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