82. Kiera
KIERA
There was a tense silence, the security guard looking us up and down. Behind his eyes, I could see what he was trying to place me, that something about my face was raising alarms. But a few days in captivity had made my face more gaunt.
Just enough to obscure my identity, I hope.
Sucking his teeth, the guard decided he wasn’t interested in challenging the boss’s kid. “Fine. Go.”
I tried to hide the shock on my face as Dom grabbed my arm, breezing right past the metal detectors and into the grand Italian manor.
Without my disguise, my bright red hair was a beacon in the crowd. If the guard hadn’t recognized me, Isaac’s cronies certainly would.
But as soon as we passed the security guard, he whipped his head around. His brow was furrowed as he started to make the connection.
“Ignore it. We belong here.” Dom grumbled, keeping my arm looped with hers. Even through the layers of tux jacket and button down sleeves, I could feel her rippling muscles. She’d lost me twice now, she wouldn’t let it happen a third.
Heads turned as we walked through the crowd. Dom grabbed two glasses of champagne off the caterers’ trays, a wink from one of the women.
One of ours.
Handing me a glass, Dom downed the other before placing it back on the silver platter. I sipped mine, still sensitive to alcohol after months of minimal drinking and barely getting fed while I was trapped in that abandoned factory.
Dom checked her watch and whispered. “The files are live.”
Around us, a few of the guests’ phones dinged with notifications. A few read the alerts, skimming the information they were receiving. And even fewer walked toward the exit, uninterested in being involved in Isaac’s sick games.
Moving toward the back garden, the crowd parted for us as we walked.
I knew overhead that Leo and Spencer would be silently traversing the second floor, taking out as many guards as they could while getting into position. It should have comforted me that no one was rushing upstairs, but the calm just made my blood pressure spike.
“One step at a time.” Dom leaned into my ear, whispering as we stepped into the garden.
Nodding, I tried to relax my shoulders. Gentle violins filled the garden as guests meandered to their seats. But Dom walked us directly to the front, down the white carpet down the center of the aisle.
Rows of chairs covered in white cloths created an array of seats leading to the altar. A white wedding arch towered over the slightly elevated stage, flowers adorning the edges.
Dom held out her hand for me to sit, a spot right up front.
As I sat, tucking my dress into place, I took a deep breath. Dozens of flowers filled the air, making it smell sweet. Below the altar, the Hudson River glistened in the bright May sun.
It was idyllic, everything my mom would have dreamed of.
A pang of guilt ran through my stomach as I looked at the stunning view. I didn’t want to ruin this for her.
But then my eyes caught on the sign at the side of the altar.
Welcome to the wedding
of Maura Tierney
and Isaac Dumont.
He was a monster. Or something worse than a monster, some bastardized version of a human being. All of our worst inclinations and traits combined into one, fallible, evil man. He may have hidden behind the pomp and circumstance, but it didn’t change what he’d done and who he was.
And my mother knew.
None of it had been enough for her to deny the money. The acclaim.
Sitting straight, I tightened my jaw and pursed my lips.
The violins broke briefly before beginning the processional song, Canon in D.
Behind Dom and I, heads turned to see the groom walk down the aisle. But Dom put her hand on my thigh. Eyes forward, Viper.”
If he saw us now, he’d be able to run or have security on us in seconds.
Leo and Spencer need more time.
It felt impossible, as the sweeping chords sounded over the faux-Italian garden, to not look back. To not see the man who had ruined my life more times over than I could count. He’d killed my father. Sold me to his friends. Set me up with his sycophant. Hunted me to the edges of the planet.
And that didn’t even begin to cover what he’d done to his wife, his own daughter, or the hundreds of women and children he’d trafficked for decades.
But I couldn’t look back, couldn’t give in to checking the monster behind my shoulder.
I could hear Isaac’s dress shoes approaching down the aisle.
With any luck, Leo and Spencer would be in place now. They would stop whatever Isaac would have his security do. And if they didn’t, we would have to improvise.