Page 52 of Broken Truths

“It’s a wedding. Absolutely no Knight shit today. None.”

She nods slowly, but I’m not sure she believes it. This castle has seen nothing but Knight shit. I’m surprised they’re even letting Anne-Marie and Vincent use it for their ceremony and after party. Not that it’s not the ideal location for a romantic event, I’m just surprised they have enough heart to let it be something else today.

The castle moves into view ahead of us. A light dusting of snow makes it look picture perfect, gothic with the hint of a fairy tale. I’m not a get-married-in-a-castle kind of dude, but even I can appreciate it.

The guests on the boat gasp. A lot of them have never been here before. Wives of other Knights and Anne-Marie and Vincent’s friends and family not indebted to the society would never have reason to, which also made today the perfect day to recover The Secret File. The security and staff won’t know who’s a guest and who’s not. I’m sure they’ve prepared, but they haven’t prepared for the ex-military team I’ve hired.

The Knights are going down, and I get to party while it happens.

We dock, the boat jarring against the wooden pier when they pull it tight to let us off. Eden closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. I hug her shoulders to me and then stand, reaching for her hand.

She lifts her chin in the air, and I hold on to her as tight as possible as we walk off the dock and onto the walkway that leads up to the castle. Stands of white roses line the walk, which almost makes me laugh. White makes me think purity, which is so far the opposite of Anne-Marie. I can’t even imagine the number of guys she’s been with, including myself.

That was another time, though. A place I never want to return to.

I’ve found my forever.

When we enter the castle, servants stand in the foyer, taking guests’ jackets and storing them down the wine cellar steps, issuing a number so they can be retrieved at the end of the night. Once we’re free of our winter clothing, we step up into the castle proper.

Garlands of white and pink petals are draped around chandeliers. Every flat surface imaginable has at least one bouquet. Men with serving trays walk around with a vase of flowers in the middle surrounded by whatever appetizer they’re peddling.

“It’s beautiful,” Eden remarks, a hint of awe in her voice.

I turn toward her. The only beautiful thing I see in this room is her. Not to use a word Oliver would, but she’s ravishing. In fact, he used that word to describe her right before we left, but he’s spot on. Not that I’ll tell him that, though, since I’m still sporting the remnants of a black eye because of his jealousy.

An elegantly dressed man in a suit more proper than mine steps in front of us with a full tray in one hand and his other behind his back. He bows his head and then addresses us. “Might I interest you in a refreshing hors d’oeuvre?”

“Only if they’re pigs in a blanket,” I reply.

The waiter frowns. “These are salmon quiches, sir.”

I make a face. “Then no.”

Eden elbows me in the side. “I’m sure my fiancé would love one, wouldn’t you?”

She peers up at me with those beautiful eyes, and I honestly can’t say no. She knows it too since she’s currently smirking.

Unfortunately, the prince beats me to it. “Ooh, quiche. My favorite.”

He plucks one of the appetizers from the tray and pops it in his mouth. I scowl and take one of my own, thanking the man before steering Eden away. “No fair using that word, and no fair wearing a pantsuit where I can’t slip it in real quick.”

Alaric chokes out a laugh.

Eden gives all three of us a look. “I can’t go around wearing skirts with no panties all the time.”

I shrug. “I can get past panties.”

The look she gives me only arouses me more, and I swear the area where she carved her name into my chest tingles with a little thrill—a reminder of who we are together.

“We should be seen mingling,” Alaric notes, surveying the room. “The more we’re seen, the more what’s happening won’t come back on us.”

He’s worried that once we get the file, the alarm will sound. I’m thinking that it’s so rarely used that no one will even notice it’s gone.

“Eden…”

The four of us all stiffen at her name in that stern, female tone. Eden turns slowly as I peer past Oliver to see her mother. They haven’t met or spoken since the announcements went out. Eden tugs on my hand to bring me forward. “Hello, Mother. I don’t think you’ve met my fiancé properly, have you?”

The smile on her mother’s face is strained. “Of course I have, dear. So nice to see you again, Leonardo.”

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