Chapter Eleven
Olivia
My legs shake the entire way to the chamber indicated in Prescott’s text.
Yes, Liam is in the diamond business, but I know how precious a red diamond like this can be.
Mom loved colored diamonds, and she sighed once that red stones are impossible to come by.
“The biggest is only five carats, and worth more than some people’s yachts. Can you believe it?”
The rock Liam put on my finger has to be way bigger than five carats. Maybe it’s from his lab? Regardless, it’s stunning, the color deeply saturated and almost ruby-like in its redness. It’s truly the kind of ring that makes a statement—that I’m his.
My heart throbs because…he isn’t exactly wrong.
I am his as long as we’re married. I wouldn’t give him anything less for agreeing to do this for me, not when he could’ve married any woman he wanted—someone who could love him openly and warmly.
Wistfulness rises in my chest until it hurts.
If Hugh hadn’t betrayed Mom, I could’ve been exactly that woman.
I look again at the stone and the flowers. He knows exactly how to make a woman feel like the center of his universe.
When we reach the chamber, Liam opens the door. Voices drift out.
“Can’t believe he invited you to be the witness,” Jeremiah grouses.
“It was Olivia. My client.” Prescott’s extra-dry voice.
“I thought Liam would have a real wedding.”
I scowl, the red diamond glinting in my peripheral vision. This is a real wedding, hello!
“It’s legally binding,” Prescott points out.
Thank you!
“You know what I mean. Is this the trend among young people now? Ares, Bryce and now Liam?”
“Josh had a real wedding ceremony. And so did your son.”
“Yes, but he had to.” A pause. “I was looking forward to drinking Liam’s champagne.”
“Jesus, don’t you bill him and his family enough to buy an entire vineyard?”
“It’s possible,” she says.
The moment Liam and I step inside, the lawyers immediately quiet down.
Jeremiah’s in a red suit that matches her hair and the bright lipstick on her mouth.
Samantha has a reputation as a legal shark, but Jeremiah is a legal Terminator.
“This isn’t what I meant when I said invite me to your wedding,” she says to Liam.
“I’ll send you a bottle of Dom,” he says. “Besides, you’ve been granted special status.” He leans toward her and lowers his voice slightly. “Not even Czarina is here.”
Her mouth twitches into a reluctant smile. Finally, she rolls her eyes. “Fine.”
“Who’s Czarina?” I ask.
“Sorcha Kingswood,” Jeremiah answers. “You’ll know what we mean when you meet her. She’s a character.”
Prescott turns to me with a warm, almost paternal smile. He’s the only one who knows exactly what I’m about to do, but I need his legal expertise to make sure my revenge will work. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
The third person who’s been waiting—the commissioner—steps forward.
He has the kind of wiry body you get from hours of biking.
Although his suit fits him a little awkwardly, it doesn’t seem to bother him.
His face is leathered from too much sun, but the smile on his face couldn’t be more genuine.
“My name is Gerald Castillo. And you are?”
“Liam Kingswood.”
“Olivia Desmond.”
“You make a beautiful couple. I love seeing people take their ceremonies seriously, even if they can’t make a lavish show of it. Gorgeous flowers, by the way.”
I flush. “Liam gave them to me.”
“Sir, you have great taste. Ready?”
“Yes.” Liam hands him our marriage license.
He nods judiciously. “Good. A confidential marriage license. Good call if you care about privacy. Everything’s in order.” His eyes drop to the ring on my finger. “Wow. Must’ve been some proposal.”
My cheeks warm. Although Liam didn’t make a formal proposal, the moment he put the stone on my finger I felt like a woman worthy of the best from him. “Yes.”
Liam seems a bit stiff. Maybe Gerald bringing up the proposal is bothering him. I reach for his hand and squeeze. Formal or not, it was still beautiful. And his sincerity beats any flashiness. “It was.”
“You have to say yes to a rock like that,” Jeremiah murmurs. “I would have.”
Gerald laughs. “Absolutely.” Then he begins the ceremony. He doesn’t talk much, just going for the bare minimum to get it done. Not sure if it’s his MO or something Prescott requested since he knows this isn’t a love match and wants to spare me any awkwardness.
“We are gathered here today to witness the union of Liam Kingswood and Olivia Desmond.”
My heart pounds. This is it—overcoming one of the biggest hurdles to achieving justice for Mom and Pochi.
Finding a husband who would not only stand by my side but also never turn against me has been hard.
Although I was a little short with Simon, he probably couldn’t have done any better.
But now I have Liam. We never dated at Stanford or anything, but he was always around.
I saw how he was with his friends and brothers in college, and now he’s built an incredible business on his own rather than just living off his family’s money.
A man who doesn’t take shortcuts is someone I can count on.
Still, my hands grow clammy with nerves. Liam threads his fingers through mine, as though to communicate that we’ll be all right. I should know better, but I still lean on his strength. Just for this moment. Any woman would be anxious in my place.
“Do you take Olivia Desmond to be your spouse?”
Liam looks at me for two beats, his eyes shining softly. Blood roars in my head, screaming—he’s too sweet, too kind.
Can you keep him safe? It’d kill me to see him hurt due to my quest for vengeance. The image of Mom lying at the bottom of the staircase flashes through my mind. A mental picture of the broken fountain where Pochi got hit.
“I do.” His voice, so certain, cuts through the apprehension in my head. All the noise inside me abruptly dies, leaving only peace.
“Do you promise to love, honor, and respect Olivia Desmond for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
Liam’s answers couldn’t be more resolute. They’re an anchor—reassuring me that everything will be fine, that he’s on my side.
Gerald turns to me. My heart starts pounding. “Do you take Liam Kingswood to be your spouse?”
My mouth dries, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “I do.”
“Do you promise to love, honor, and respect Liam Kingswood for as long as you both shall live?”
I look at Liam, study his strong, sensitive features. Our eyes lock. “I do.” The moment the words leave my mouth, my heart pounds with finality. For better or for worse, Liam’s my husband for six months after the birth of our first child. I clench my hands around the bouquet to hide the tremors.
Gerald signals Liam with his eyes. “These rings are symbols of the vows you’ve made here today.”
Liam pulls out a pair of platinum bands, simple and elegant, designed not to compete with the red diamond. But they’re solid enough to make a statement: we are in a committed relationship.
“This ring is the symbol of the vow I made here today.” He slides the slimmer one onto my finger.
I take the other one, warm from his body heat, and turn it a little. A simple engraving winks from the inside: Always yours. My breath catches, and my eyes fly to his face. He looks back at me like nothing’s wrong. My palm prickles. What does my ring say?
Jeremiah coughs quietly, jerking my focus back to the present. “This ring is the symbol of the vow I made here today,” I say shakily, then place the ring on his finger.
This is it. No turning back. Now it’s full speed ahead, all the way until justice is served.
“By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you married.” Gerald smiles. “You may kiss your bride.”
My nerve endings prickle—in apprehension or something else. Anxiety winds through me, and I clench my hands even tighter around the bouquet.
It’s just a kiss. You have to do more than kiss to make a baby.
I try to steady my heart, which feels like it’s about to break free and tumble around inside my chest. Then, holding the white dahlias like a shield between us, I turn to him, my mouth slightly parted.
A lopsided grin tugs at his mouth before he bends down. He doesn’t devour me like I half expect. His mouth is dry and soft, his tongue flicking over me briefly for a taste. But my heart jolts like he’s sent an electric shock through my body.
He pulls back, then places another one—tenderly—on my forehead.
The air catches in my throat, and I can’t breathe.
He looks down at me like he’s holding the most precious treasure in his hands.
Butterflies suddenly swarm in my belly. I blink up at him in confusion.
How can such a chaste kiss on my forehead feel so intimate?
The sound of the iron wall around my heart cracking echoes through my entire being.
Shivers spread down my spine, and I clench my jaw, determined to master myself.
I can’t afford to be carefree and get swept up in the make-believe.
Although marrying Liam is a major step and it needs to look real to everyone, I still have a few more moves left to execute.
Hugh won’t surrender without a fight. Deena and Brielle won’t kneel without kicking and screaming first.
Gerald brings out our marriage license. I sign it first, my hand stable, then watch as Liam signs his name in a bold scrawl.
“That was short but lovely. But why are we here if you have a confidential marriage license?” Jeremiah says.
“Just because I want privacy doesn’t mean I don’t want important people at the wedding,” I say.
Hugh will try to contest the validity of the marriage, probably calling me crazy or addicted to drugs or alcohol or of unsound mind since Mom and Pochi died.
After all, I’ve accused Deena and Brielle of murdering Mom, then called Brielle a “dog killer.”
But… Good luck, parasite. Both Prescott and Jeremiah Huxley bore witness to this ceremony.
He’ll never be able to claim that the marriage was a sham to kick him off the trust, not with these formidable attorneys and the unassailable reputation and power of Huxley & Webber behind them.
It’s no accident I asked Prescott to attend today.
However, I’m getting the feeling that even if I’d picked two homeless people off the street as witnesses, Liam would never allow Hugh to trash our marriage.