Chapter 44
Chapter
Forty-Four
KADE
This is the second time my sister's gotten me into a tux, and there will not be a third. Well, except for when I marry Fallon. Because I will marry her. That's not wishful thinking or some teenage fantasy—it's a fact I've already decided.
The thought settles in my chest like certainty as I stand off to the side with ángel and Elías, watching Grace and Damián exchange their vows.
The venue is some upscale bullshit in La Jolla—all white flowers and crystal chandeliers, the kind of place that probably costs more than the MC pulls in a year.
Grace looks like an angel standing in front of a devil—all white lace and innocence while he's dark and dangerous in his perfectly tailored suit, he stares at her like she's the only thing in the world that matters.
Fuck.
I'm starting to understand Damián more now.
The obsession. The possession. The absolute refusal to let anyone else have what's yours.
Because I would kidnap Fallon and keep her locked away somewhere only I could reach her.
I would make her mine in every way that matters until the rest of the world forgot she'd ever belonged to anyone else.
Honestly, the only thing stopping me is protecting my brothers. I'm trying to do this right, trying to reduce the backlash this will have on everyone around me. Trying to play it smart instead of just taking what I want the way every instinct screams at me to do.
But I'm getting impatient.
The first week Daniel was in the hospital, she came to me every night.
Slept in my bed every night. Her body curled against mine, her breath warm on my neck, her fingers tangled in my hair while I held her like she might disappear if I let go.
For seven perfect nights I got to pretend she was really mine—not stolen moments between classes, not secret meetings in empty classrooms, but mine.
Waking up with her, falling asleep with her, everything in between.
Then he was released and she stopped coming.
The only time I get to see her now is at school, and it's fucking killing me.
I bent her over her desk after school on Friday, my hand over her mouth while she came apart beneath me, but one fuck in a week is not cutting it.
Not even close. I need to be inside her every night.
Need to fall asleep with her scent on my sheets and wake up with her in my arms. Need her in my bed, in my life, wearing my name instead of his.
"Do you, Damián Alejandro Lázaro, take Grace Elizabeth Gentry to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
The priest's voice pulls me back to the present.
I force myself to focus on the ceremony instead of the woman I can't have yet.
Yet. One more week and Damián promised he'd help.
Another week of Daniel breathing the same air as Fallon, sleeping in the same house, having the legal right to touch what's mine.
My jaw clenches. A week feels like forever.
"I do." Damián's voice is absolute. No hesitation. Like he's been waiting his whole life to say those two words, like there was never any doubt about how this would end.
"And do you, Grace Elizabeth Gentry, take Damián Alejandro Lázaro to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Grace's voice is softer but just as certain. "I do."
I watch my sister marry a cartel prince and feel zero judgment. She chose him. She's choosing him. The way he looks at her makes it obvious he'd burn the world down before letting anything happen to her. That's the kind of man she needs—the kind who'll protect what's his with everything he has.
The kind of man I'm becoming for Fallon.
"Bless, O Lord, these rings, that they who wear them may live in deep love and unbroken faith, keeping Your commandments. May they abide in Your peace and favor all the days of their lives."
I watch them take turns putting the rings on each other.
Damián's hands are completely steady while Grace's shake slightly, her blue eyes bright with tears she's trying not to shed.
Then the priest is announcing them as husband and wife and Damián is kissing her like he's claiming her soul along with her mouth, one hand fisted in her hair while the other spans her waist, pulling her close enough that the crowd probably thinks it's indecent.
I can't believe they're actually married now. My sister—the girl who showed up not long ago looking for our dad—is now married to one of the most dangerous men in California.
Fuck, our lives are weird.
I watch them walk back down the aisle together, Grace's hand tucked in Damián's elbow while he guides her like she's something precious he's afraid might break.
Behind them, Walker looks like he's aged ten years but also looks relieved—the debt's paid, the MC is safe, and his daughter chose this instead of being forced into it. Small victories in our fucked up world.
I spot Grace's mom crying in the front row—happy tears or sad tears, I can't tell.
Maybe both. I wonder if Fallon's mom will come to our wedding.
If she'll cry too, or if she'll understand why her daughter chose me instead of staying with the asshole she married.
If she'll see that sometimes the bad boy is actually the better option.
An hour later I'm watching their first dance from the bar when Elías comes up to me.
The reception is in full swing now—cartel members mixing with MC brothers in an uneasy truce, everyone on their best behavior for Grace and Damián's sake.
Music pulses through the expensive speakers, and the dance floor is packed with people pretending this is a normal wedding instead of a merger between two criminal organizations.
"Kade." He says and takes a seat beside me, in his expensive suit.
Everything about him screams money and power—the kind of polish you get when you grow up knowing you'll inherit an empire.
"Look, Damián wants to help, but he can’t until after the honeymoon.
One week. Just hold it down until then, okay? "
I nod, taking another drink of my beer. The bottle is cold in my hand, condensation dripping down to pool on the bar.
We spoke before the wedding—he asked point-blank if I'm the one responsible for Daniel's "accident.
" I didn't deny shit. Told him exactly why—what Daniel did to Fallon, what he would've kept doing if someone hadn't stopped him.
He seemed to understand. Maybe even approve.
"That's fine," I say, meaning it. One week. I can wait one week if it means Damián's help making this clean. "But I won't wait any longer than that. I'm getting her out of that house and with me where she belongs."
Elías nods, something flickering in his dark eyes.
"Sí. Damián will handle it when he returns.
" He stands, adjusting his cufflinks—a casual gesture that somehow looks calculated.
"Your woman, she is very brave. Like Grace.
They both chose difficult men." A slight smile.
"Perhaps they are braver than all of us, no? "
He walks away before I can respond, leaving me alone with my beer and my thoughts.
My woman. Yeah. She is. Even if the law says otherwise, even if she's still wearing another man's ring, Fallon is mine.
Has been since the first time she looked at me like I was more than just her student, more than just trouble she should avoid.
I down the rest of my beer and walk to the dance floor where Grace is dancing with Walker.
Our dad guides her carefully, like he's afraid she might break or disappear if he holds her too tight.
Grace is smiling up at him, saying something that makes him laugh—the first time I've seen him genuinely smile in weeks.
They look like a normal father and daughter, like they've known each other forever instead of only months.
I watch them dance until the song ends and step up to them before anyone else can claim her.
"My turn."
Grace's face lights up, that bright smile that comes so easy to her despite everything she's been through. Walker looks between us, reading something in my expression that makes him nod.
"I'll go get a drink—"
"Oh no you don't." Grace's friend Liz appears out of nowhere, taking Walker's hand with zero hesitation. She's wearing a tight red dress that leaves nothing to the imagination and looking at our dad like he's dessert. "I want a dance with Daddy Stone."
"Oh my God, Liz." Grace's face turns pink, mortification written all over her features.
I just shake my head, pulling Grace away before we have to witness whatever the fuck that is. "Your friend's got no shame."
Grace glances back over her shoulder to where Liz is pressed against Walker, her hands already wandering to places that are definitely not appropriate for a wedding dance. "Apparently he's a big deal with the ladies. Like, a really big deal. All of the girls talk about him."
I laugh despite myself. "I know, you already told me but I still didn’t want to believe it.
" He's forty, gruff as hell, and spends most of his time covered in motor oil or blood.
Not exactly what I picture when I think ladies' man.
She grins and I shake my head, pulling her into a proper dance position—one hand on her waist, the other holding hers.
The music is slow, some classical shit. "Congratulations, Sis. "
"Thank you." She's quiet for a moment, studying my face with her blue eyes. "How are things going with Fallon?"
"Good." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue but I don't want to get into it on her wedding night. Don't want to tell her that Fallon's still trapped with Daniel, still going home to him every night while I lie awake imagining all the ways I could kill him without getting caught.
"Good, because you two are cute together." There's something knowing in her smile, something that says she sees right through my bullshit. "Like, really cute. The way she looks at you..."
I laugh, but it comes out rough. "You know she's my teacher and married, right?"
Grace laughs too, the sound bright and genuine.
"Yep. But you're better for her than him, and who am I to judge?
" She gestures around at her wedding reception—cartel and MC mixing like oil and water, everyone pretending this is normal.
"I married a man who kidnapped me. Pretty sure I've lost all moral high ground. "
Her words make both of us laugh, the shared understanding of how fucked up our situations are somehow making it easier to bear. Grace and Fallon are both in love with dangerous men in impossible circumstances, both choosing darkness over safety because sometimes the monster is the better option.
"Fair," I say, pulling her a little closer. She rests her head on my shoulder for the rest of our dance, and I let myself be her brother instead of the guy who's planning to steal a married woman from her abusive husband. Just for these few minutes, I can pretend everything is simple.
But it's not.
And in a week, when Damián gets back from his honeymoon, I'm done pretending. Done waiting. Done letting Daniel breathe the same air as Fallon for one more second than necessary.
One week. Then Fallon becomes mine in every way that matters.
And nothing—not her marriage, not the law, not Daniel's political connections—will stop me from making that happen.