Page 25 of Glass Omega

Rhodes’ stern expression slackened into a shock that he wasn’t fast enough to hide. “No, why would that be a mafia reference? It’s from the movieDodgeball? The cinematic masterpiece?”

When I shrugged, he looked at me like I was insane.

“Ben Stiller? Vince Vaughn?” He kept trying.

“I dunno, what year did it come out?”

“2004.”

Then I offered him the most evil smile I could manage. “Oh, I was two then.”

I knew exactly what movie he was talking about. Romey had developed quite the addiction to early 2000’s movies and had spent the majority of his teens showing them to me while I was stuck in the hospital as a captive audience.

I preferredLegally Blondeif I was being completely honest. Elle Woods was infinitely more interesting than a bunch of dudes throwing balls around.

“Christ on a cracker.” Rhodes scrubbed a hand over his face as I reminded him yet again that he was fifteen years older than I was. “You knew exactly what I was talking about the entire time.”

“I did indeed, grandpa,” I teased.

I may have been kidnapped on my wedding day by Edison and Rhodes, but watching their eyes widen when I made them feel old was becoming a bit of a sick obsession of mine.

A girl had to get her kicks in somewhere, right?

The corners of Rhodes’ mouth twitched upwards so fast that I was sure that if I blinked I would miss it.

“So youdosmile at someone other than Edison,” I gasped, scandalized.

Then the smile was gone again and he was back in Teacher-Terminator-Mode, his foot kicking out and sweeping behind my legs, sending me sprawling onto my back again.

Dark eyes met mine as he leaned over me, his face unsmiling but I could see a hint of mirth hiding just underneath the surface. “And what did we learn, kid?”

“To keep my eyes on your feet,” I groaned, glaring up at him.

“Indeed. Now, get up and let’s tryS.I.N.Gagain.”

I was definitely right. My ass was going to look like a very sad stained glass window by the end of today and it was only my first lesson.

It was quickly seeming like my dreams of becoming the next Karate Kid mob wife were just that. Dreams.

Eight

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Oona sighed wistfully as she stared at me in the full-length mirror.

I was two hours into trying on the dresses that the designer had brought to the estate, and looking at myself now, I was pretty sure I’d found the one I’d be wearing at the end of the week.

Once we’d agreed on everything a few days ago, Edison worked like a madman to pull together all of the things that a wedding required.

The Edison Keane that I’d seen on the day of mylastwedding had been every inch the mobster. He’d oozed danger and had sent a chill down my spine when he’d addressed Amante—a man who had previously been my standard for all things scary.

But the one that I saw every day seemed like a completely different creature.

Pack Ricci hadn’t cared much about the details that went into our union—and neither had I—but Edison seemed to caretoomuch.

He insisted it had to be perfect, though Rhodes had taken to calling him a groomzilla under his breath after we heard the man muttering about doves at dinner yesterday.

And despite it all, it was utterly charming.

I’d always known Edison Keane was handsome. The night I saw him in the hospital four years ago he’d been ruffled and bloody as Dr. Stedmeyer had stitched him up. He’d been the walking-talking manifestation of the dirty books that I downloaded onto my kindle to make the long nights in the cancer ward go by faster.

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