“Her mother’s the same way.” He shakes his head, a slow spreading grin overtaking him as though he’s reminiscing.

Mitch scans the room until he seems to locate what he’s looking for; I follow his gaze to find Shannon engaged in an animated conversation with members of the wait staff. Her head’s thrown back in hysterics as the servers double over laughing twice as hard. A few of the guests eye her with judgmental stares, but she doesn’t seem to give a fuck.

“Strong women,” Mitch continues, “I mean truly strong women, Maverick, are a gift. It’s an honor to be chosen by one because they don’t need us. If anything, they’re inconveniencing themselves by taking us on.” His grin widens, obviously still captivated by his wife’s presence across the room. “So, when they pick us, it’s because they truly love us. And there is nothing their love can’t heal. Nicky’s mom was the love of my life. Joanna’s mom? She’s the other half of my soul. I didn’t know love like this existed before her.”

“I think your daughter is both of those things for me, sir.”

“Oh, well, then you’re fucked, son.” He clinks his glass against mine as I let out a snort, my hand scrubbing over my face. “So, Wednesday, then?” He eyes me with a smile.

“Wednesday.” I reciprocate the gesture, nodding in agreement. “Thank you, sir.”

“Am I letting Joanna’s mom come?”

My head tilts to the side, eyeing him questioningly. “Is it possible to prevent Shannon from doing anything?”

“You’re learning.” He points to me, smirking as he backs away in the direction of his wife. “Wednesday!” Mitch turns, dodging several guests who attempt to engage him in conversation in favor of scooping Shannon up in his arms. She lights up in his embrace, and I can only hope that J will still look at me like that in ten, twenty, fifty years.

Shifting my gaze back to the front of the room, I breathe a sigh of relief that the actual rehearsal has concluded. Scanning the crowd for my girl, my eyes fail to locate her. It’s then that I realize Cabir is missing as well.

Fuck.

Setting my drink down on a nearby table, I set out in search of her, though a quick lap of the ballroom confirms she’s not in here. My inner monster stirs, growing restless in her absence as I venture out into the hallway.

My head swivels from side to side and I’m just about to head back toward the lobby when a faint voice captures my attention, drawing me to the left, toward the empty ballrooms. As I approach, I realize it’s not one voice but two that I hear. Both of which become more pronounced the closer I get.

“I just want to talk to you, Joanna,” the male voice I distinctly recognize as Cabir’s urges.

I’m gonna fucking kill him.

“So you nab me as I’m heading to the bathroom?!” She scoffs incredulously. “You’re fucking insane. Get the fuck away from me.”

“Joanna, I—Ugh!”

I rush through the slightly ajar doors at the end of the hall to find Cabir doubled over in the center of the room. Joanna stands before him, gun drawn as she pins him with a hateful glare. “Touch me again and I won’t just kick it, I’ll break it the fuck off.”

My monster fucking roars.

“Are you kidding me?!” I advance into the room, my pace quickening as I make my approach.

Cabir glances over, pushing to his feet as he spins to face me. “Fuck you, Bis—”

My fist collides with his jaw before he can finish his insult. “I fucking told you. I told you what I would do if I caught you near her.” I cock back once more, only to be halted by the familiar sound of Daphne’s voice spilling into the space.

“Maverick!” she hisses, glancing out toward the hallway once more before shutting the door behind her. “Maverick, back the fuck up. Jones, put the gun away.”

“Daph, you don’t understand.” Jonsie’s words rush out as her gun remains trained on the waste of space before her. “Caleb isn’t who we thought. He’s—”

“A piece of shit planted here to fuck with us?” Daph eyes Cabir with a look of disdain. “Yeah, I’m aware. You still can’t be fucking people up at my rehearsal dinner, especially members of my bridal party. So, this will have to wait until another day.”

“Daph,” Jonsie breathes, reluctantly holstering her weapon, “what do you mean you know?”

“Luc came clean,” she explains with a shrug. “Admitted everything.”

“And you’re still gonna marry him?” Jones questions her, baring a look of sheer disbelief. “He set me up. Used me. What the fuck, Daphne?”

“I’m sorry, J. I know how this must look. But as it turns out…” she speaks with a forced resolve, “…there’s no limit to what I’d do for him.” Her eyes dart between myself and Jones, briefly locking with mine, and I’m pretty fucking sure it isn’t Lucian she’s talking about.

“Daphne,” J begins, only to be interrupted.