Chapter Sixty-Nine Charlotte
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Charlotte
When I slip out of the Salon de Diane, the room that Azrael and I ducked into for me to direct him on my plan, Greed intercepts me in the vestibule leading toward the Royal Chapel, brandishing my bouquet.
“Where the hell have you been?” she hisses. “The photographers. All the guests. Everyone is waiting for you downstairs.”
I shake my head. “I got held up by Michael and then your Mother. Where’s Lucifer?”
“Already waiting at the altar for you. He sent Azrael to look for you.”
Oh, Azrael came looking for me all right.
Every moment near him knowing I’m not allowed to touch him is torture.
How badly would Lucifer punish me if I had Azrael freeze time and fucked his best man before the wedding without his permission?
I push the fantasy aside.
If my husband’s already at the altar, then we’re going to have to improvise.
Greed ushers me along the corridor, trying to hurry me toward the chapel, but I grab her arm, staying her. “Mimi, I want you to know that whatever happens today, I appreciate you giving me that dossier.” It’s better than any other wedding gift I’m likely to get.
Though I specifically asked all the guests to make generous donations to a list of global charities around the world. I think philanthropy might be my next undertaking anyway.
I am so over PR.
Greed waves a dismissive hand. “My brothers had a bit of a hand in it, too, though if we’re going to die, I’m happy to hoard all the credit, of course.”
“We?” I lift a brow. “You and the other Originals changed your mind? You’re going to fight with us?”
My heart stops.
Lucifer was right.
The winds of celestial battles do shift quickly.
Greed blows out an annoyed breath like I’m asking about yesterday’s news. “I talked the others into it this morning. I’m a far superior negotiator to you.”
“And what kind of deal do you expect in—”
Greed huffs. “Not everything I do is for my own gain, you know. Just most of it.” She shrugs.
“Then why . . . ?”
“For Mia, and because you’re my sister. That’s why.” Her plump red lips press together in confusion. “What other reason do I need?”
Without warning, I fling myself into her arms, pulling her in for a hug.
And though she grumbles a little, to my surprise, she lets me.
When we break apart, I’m beaming from ear to ear, smiling as wide as any bride should be and hoping my mascara and setting spray hold as she passes me my bouquet.
Pulling her into a nearby alcove, I quickly catch her up to speed.
“That’s your plan?” she says when I’m finished.
I cringe. Well, when she puts it like that, it does seem a little . . . haphazard.
But I’m still new to this, and it’s the best I’ve got, unfortunately.
“Well, that’s some of it anyway, and you’re not going to like this next part, but”—I take her hands in mine—“I also need you to help me give Sloth a pair of wings.”