Chapter 31
Iblinked, cameras flashing in my face.
Boston’s arm slid around my waist, tucking me to his side. I’d so quickly become accustomed to his large body and the safety it offered. We’d come a long way from when that same body terrified me.
“Dempsey, this way!” a photographer called.
“Boston, Dempsey, to your right!”
“This way, Ms. Aston, please.”
I felt Boston twitch at that last one. Unfortunately I was still legally a Falconer, even though I didn’t want the connection to my father.
I would have traded the name for Aston, but not as their stepsister.
If I was going to take the name, I wanted it because Sin, Dacre, and Pres wanted to give it to me.
However, Boston’s involvement now threw everything into disarray.
He leaned down, lips murmuring against my hair right by my ear. “Should I correct them and tell them it’s Mrs. Dempsey Ivers?”
I pressed my hand to his chest, smiling playfully up at him. “Only if you want to start a war with the Astons.”
He glanced further down the red carpet, where Dacre, Sin, and Pres were being photographed together. Pres shot daggers at Boston for getting to be out in public with me on his arm.
Boston turned back towards the cameras, murmuring: “Maybe tomorrow.”
My grin widened, and we posed like the perfect married couple for the cameras.
“Dempsey, how does it feel to marry into a crime family?” someone called from behind a camera.
I worked to cover my surprise at the bold question, one Kesia and Gia had assured me wouldn’t come up. Yet here we were.
Tilting my head up to smile at Boston, my answer was only one word.
“Hot.”
His lips twitched at the corners as he fought a smile, dipping his head so his mouth could meet mine.
The cameras flashed faster.
“Hot?” Byron seethed, slamming the media report Kesia pulled together for him daily on the table. “You’re asked about marrying into a crime family and instead of no comment, you respond with ‘hot’?”
I pressed my lips together, fighting the words I really wanted to say.
If Byron knew the things Boston could do with his fingers, he might be a little more understanding. I glanced at Boston where he stood beside me, the two of us silent like students who had been called in front of the principal.
He smirked at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking, then schooled his expression and turned back to Byron. “Respectfully, we were told the press had been briefed not to ask anything about my family.”
Byron’s raging gaze landed on Boston and cooled ever so slightly. Was there a chance Byron Aston was a little afraid of my husband?
I filed that information away for another day.
“Kesia can make the request, but it is something that cannot always be controlled. It doesn’t always translate to what happens in the moment.” Byron’s jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek ticking. His eyes landed on me again. “What can be controlled is how you respond to it.”
I nodded slowly, trying to pretend I cared.
The clip of me had gone a little viral. Instead of Byron’s attendance at the event being the headline, it was my marriage.
Kind of seemed like Byron cared more about being overshadowed than he did about any potential damage my response had done to his campaign image.
I shrugged. “It won’t happen again.”
His eyes narrowed on me slightly, like he was holding back what he really wanted to say. “It better not, Dempsey.”
He waved a hand at us in dismissal, and Boston held the door open for me, closing it behind us. The second we were away from the door, Boston’s arms came around my waist, his mouth closing over my throat.
“You’ve really got to learn how to stop every thought you have showing up on your face,” he murmured, sucking on my skin and making me shiver. “I was half-hard just looking at you.”
I couldn’t help my laugh at his stiff predicament.
I could feel it now, poking me in the ass as I stumbled around trying to walk with a six-foot-five giant attached to me.
But we didn’t have time to fool around. Right now I had to find my guys and show them some love after last night’s red carpet had them rocked with jealousy.
There was no need for it, I was more than willing to cater to all four of them as, and when, they wanted it.
A voice cleared as we made it to the stairs and we stopped short. Boston stood tall, his arms still around me protectively.
My father smiled back at us, looking so smug that I wanted to slap him in the face. If I wasn’t so scared that it would result in him cutting off my hand for it, I’d be tempted to try it.
“It seems, Dempsey…” my father said, taking slow steps closer to us with his hands behind his back like he was surveying an art installation in a high-end gallery.
“That for all your resistance to the marriage I orchestrated for you, it’s working out quite well.
Seems to me like an heir may be imminent. ”
He glanced over my head at Boston and then back to me.
I scowled, anger fuelling me. He didn’t get to take credit for the work Boston and I had done to build something out of the mess of fear and violence our fathers had created. And I’d had enough of letting him play with me like I was a toy and not his damn daughter.
“Fuck you,” I cut back.
My father’s expression flickered with surprise for just a moment before he masked it like the sociopath he was. “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.” I paused, so he had a moment to take it in. “Fuck. You.”
Boston’s arm squeezed at my waist in a show of support. He wasn’t saying anything because he didn’t need to. I had it covered and he was letting me know it.
My father took a step towards me, and Boston moved to intervene. My father glanced up at him over my head again, and whatever he saw there, he didn’t take another step towards me.
It was one thing to put his hands on me, but he wouldn’t dare attack a member of the Ivers family. Any attempt at Boston could be seen as a move against the Ivers family, and that was something my father couldn’t afford. Jeopardizing his precious business relationships was the last thing he wanted.
My father’s jaw ticked as he stared at me. “Someone has gotten mighty bold now she’s got an attack dog and a few rich boyfriends.”
He strolled past us, disappearing in the direction of the library. He’d taken to spending time there during the day, no doubt running his dirty deals right under Byron’s nose. Byron had made a mistake inviting him into our lives. He was a snake, one prone to striking hard at the smallest slight.
When he was gone, I blew out a long breath. I’d never stood up to my father like that.
“You don’t need an attack dog,” Boston said against my hair, planting a kiss there. “You know how to protect yourself.”
We turned, heading for the theater room. After the week I’d had, I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with as many of my guys who were willing and fool around while we pretended to watch a movie.
I stopped short at finding Dacre standing in the hallway, shoulder against the wall.
“Did you hear all that?” I asked, nothing but curiosity in my tone.
Boston’s fingers flexed on my waist.
“I did.” His gaze cut to Boston behind me, and he pushed off the wall, stopping beside us.
He clapped Boston on the shoulder. “Welcome to her gang of sexual deviants,” he said to Boston. “Officially.”
Dacre’s gaze cut to me and he winked, making my core pulse.
He strolled across the entrance hall towards the kitchen, knowing exactly what that cocky ass wink of his did to me.
Dacre had welcomed Boston into our lives and into our group like it was that simple.
Boston’s arms slid around my waist, his lips finding my neck.
“Looks like there’s no getting rid of me now, wife.”