Page 80 of Seizing Control: Part One

It was a watertight promise.

For every finger he lays on her, I’ll dole out the equivalent in pain.

I don’t care if Lily hates me for it at the time.

She’ll quickly learn that Slash is a temporary stop-gap, at best.

I am eternally hers.

And she is mine.

14

LILY

Four days later

“Let’s get this party started!” Nadia exclaims once she’s awkwardly led me through the front door. She pulls her hands away from my eyes, and the ground floor of the house I share with Slash erupts with applause. The sound is deafening, more than fifty people crowded into the four walls. Yelling, she asks, “Do you like it? Tell me you like it.”

“You’ve been busy.” Heart in my throat, denial tightening my chest even as flutters of excitement invade my stomach to war with the disenchantment that’s held me captive since Slash dropped his bombshell on me after our wedding ceremony, I’m rendered speechless. To buy myself time to formulate an appropriate response, I make a show of surveying the setup. When it becomes clear that my best friend isn’t going to move on without an compliments, I tell her, “I love it.”

The gigantic games room off the smaller living area has been converted into a craft zone. Black and blue balloons hang from the ceiling. Gold streamers flutter in the corners. In the centre of what is usually the dining room sits a huge table covered with all of my favourite snacks. Everywhere I look, my loved ones have created special mementos and taken funny photos, then tacked them to the walls.

“I know you’re still in denial and all, but I wanted to make sure you had good memories to look back on once reality hits.”

“Thanks, Nads... you’re—” Swallowing hard, I search for the right word. “Everything.” Fighting back tears, we hug, with Nadia pushing onto her tiptoes while I stoop down to meet her halfway. “I’d be fucked without you.”

“Just as well you’ll never know what that feels like, then.”

Eyes stinging as my emotions get the better of me, I kiss her cheek, then set about greeting everyone who has made the effort to attend my Hen’s night. So many people have made the trek at short notice. From every Australian chapter. From our support clubs. Most of the National chapter out of the US. Representatives for the UK contingent. My favourite rock stars, taking a well-earned break now they’re finally back on tour. The fighters from Blackards MMA as well as Gabbi, her younger sister, and the gorgeous Okumura siblings, Ami and Saki.

Once I’ve moved through the people I love, acknowledging them individually, I find myself swept deeper into the house. My favourite girls, the members of our Moscato & Monet club gather around me. Tank’s widow, Delia, hangs back with the other local old ladies, while I greet my core friendship group.

“You’re a dark horse, Anna Mayberry,” Serena Abaddon chides me after a tight hug. Looking like a million bucks in a designer dress that I’d bet every dollar still missing from my bank account hasn’t even hit the runway yet, she grins. “Locking down the perpetually single Travis Fimmel clone in just a few months—that’s gotta be some kind of record.”

“It’s not like that?—”

Her stepsister, Ziva Navarro, tosses her long hair over her shoulder as she cuts me off to ask, “What is it like then?”

“Quite,” Indigo Michaelson agrees in her posh British accent. She takes a sip of her screwdriver, then peers at me over the rim of her glass. “What happened with you and Zeke? I thought there was still a little love left the last time we spoke?”

Nadia shoos the trio back a few steps. “Give her some breathin’ space.”

Seraphina Noguera-Tomás slides her arm through mine. A princess of the US Trinity and a rock star in her own right, her kind eyes gleam with understanding. She’s juggling three men—her band mates—while coping with the fallout from the death of her twin sister the last time Apologies to Medusa toured Australia.

If anyone understands my predicament, it’s her.

“Start from the beginning, Anna,” Sera advises. “The last time we saw you, you were adamant that nothing was going to happen between you and Slash. You never even dropped a hint in any of our calls that you were seeing him. To say that my father’s demand I represent him at your wedding in two days’ time was a surprise is an understatement... we’re not here to judge. We just want to understand.”

“It’s not all that complicated.” I suck in a deep breath, then tell them the truth, “It’s an arranged marriage—to ally the Shamrocks and the Trinity.”

My admission lands with the impact of a nuclear bomb.

“Well, that’s bollocks.” Indi’s droll statement seems to spur the rest of them into action.

They bombard me with questions.

How?

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