“Daphne.” Lunging for her, I pull her in for a hug as a visibly frustrated Nicky backs away. “What the fuck, Daph?!” I maintain my grip as I hold her at arm’s length. “I’ve been calling you nonstop. Why haven’t you answered me?”

She sniffles, which she attempts to mask with a cough before quickly swiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, boo. I’ve been busy. Speaking of, we really need to get inside and get this rolling.” She shimmies her shoulders, maneuvering from my grasp.

“Daph, wait.” I reach for her once more, though she swiftly backs away.

“Later, okay? I promise. We gotta get inside before Mom goes nuclear.” Her gaze shifts over my shoulder to where my brother stands. “Nicky, get home safe.” And with those parting words she spins away, retreating inside.

I instinctively turn to face Nicky, an exasperated expression hanging heavy on my face. “What the fuck is going on, Nick?!”

“Not now, J. Okay? Please.” He holds up his hand, signaling for me to stop before running it through his somewhat unruly locks that have started to grow out again.

“I—” My words die out as my eyes fixate on a small marking on his left hand. Reaching for him, I latch on, pulling his hand toward my face. “What is this?” I take note of the tiny “D” tattooed on his finger in script. “When did you get another tattoo?”

Nicky pulls his hand from my grasp, backing away in the process. “I got my initial tattooed on me. It’s no biggie. I’ve been wanting it for a while.”

“Since when?” My brow furrows.

“It doesn’t matter, Baby J.” He continues backing away. “Look, I’m outta here.”

“Where are you going?!” I call out, tossing my hands up in frustration.

“I wasn’t invited to this part. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Nicky’s eyes dim as he says it, as though part of his soul just died. Turning toward Mav, he extends his hand. Mav grasps his palm, pulling him in as they bump shoulders. “Watch her in there. That fucker’s inside.”

“I got eyes on her, Nick.” Nicky goes to pull away, but Mav holds on a second longer, commanding his attention. “Both of ‘em. You say the word, I pull Daph out. Heard?”

Nicky swallows, staring at Maverick as he slowly nods in what appears to be appreciation. At last, with a hesitant final glance toward the hotel behind me, he stalks off, leaving me worrying in his absence.

“Yo.” Mav speaks low. “He’s gonna be okay. That fucker’s too resilient not to be.”

Blowing out a breath, I loop my arm through Mav’s as we make our way toward the lobby. “I never thought I’d see the day you two started saying nice things about each other.”

“Don’t worry,” he pulls the door open, guiding me inside, “we’ll get pissed off about something sooner or later and one of us will throw a punch.”

“Oh, well that’s promising,” I feign excitement as a chuckle escapes him.

“There you are!” The shrill squeal pierces through my skull.

Fuck. I’d know that pretentious overentitled tone anywhere. Belinda Burke. Daphne’s mother. I use that term loosely considering besides birthing her, she’s never done a damn thing deserving of that title.

I spin, plastering the fakest smile possible on my face in the process. “Hi, Mrs. Burke.”

She approaches me, leaning in to bestow air kisses to each side of my face. “Honestly, dear, you’re Maid of Honor. I really need you to be a bit more on the ball if you’re going to shoulder such a huge responsibility. Maddison was here an hour ago.”

“Was she?” I grit my teeth, forcing my smile wider than what I consider comfortable. “I heard she had an accident at the bachelorette party. Slipped and fell on her face, was it? I tried to tell her to go easy, but she was just slamming them back like a sorority sister at dollar shot night.”

It’s faint, but I hear Mav stifle a snort behind me. Mav’s security explained very clearly to Maddison how if she shared the truth of that night, she would be banned from any and all nightclubs worthy of attending between here and New York City. The desperate socialite she is couldn’t stomach the thought of being socially exiled, so she was more than willing to comply. Pathetic.

“Yes, I know.” Belinda shakes her head in disdain. “I don’t know what you girls were thinking going out and carrying on like that. I’m just thankful her bruising is pretty much all healed. Oh my God, could you imagine having to photoshop her face in all the wedding photos?! It’s bad enough Caleb’s face will need retouching. What a nightmare.” She scoffs. Suddenly, her gaze falls behind me, taking notice of Maverick’s presence. She looks upon him with heavy judgment, her eyes scanning him up and down in a disapproving manner. “And you are?”

“Maverick Bishop. Joanna’s boyfriend.” He smiles wide, reaching around me to extend his hand.

Belinda’s face scrunches as she continues to silently assess him, leaving his hand hanging between them. “Maverick Bishop? Weren’t you arrested for murder?”

My jaw tenses at her blatant show of disrespect toward him. Straightening my posture, I’m just about to let her have it when Mav responds.

“Not today.” He cocks his brow, his smile morphing into a menacing smirk as he withdraws his hand.

“Joanna—” she screeches, only to have her hysterics cut short.