Page 91 of Final Vendetta

“It’s upstairs.” He nodded toward the staircase. “Melanie and your mom picked it out.”

Most women might have been upset at the thought of having someone else choose their wedding dress. Not me. I’d told my mom from the beginning that I didn’t care what I wore. I only cared about who I was marrying.

“But my parents,” I said, my voice faltering. “And Melanie. She’ll kill me if I get married without her by my side.”

His grin widened. “Your mom and Melanie are upstairs, as well. The rest of our guests will be arriving in two hours. I just need a bride.”

Emotion swelled in my chest, threatening to undo me. A rush of joy, love, and disbelief coursed through me, leaving me breathless as I stared at the man who had defied every odd to find his way back to me.

The idea of getting married on a whim like this seemed so unconventional. But we’d never exactly been a conventional couple. Why start now?

“Okay,” I whispered, the word catching on a sob. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I placed my hand in his. “Let’s get married.”

Chapter Forty-One

Gideon

“Nervous?” Henry asked a few hours later, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

He looked as composed as ever as he stood beside me in front of the makeshift altar, despite being forced to wear a suit.

“Not the way you’re thinking,” I admitted, shifting my weight.

My eyes swept over the people gathered to celebrate with us, their faces lit up by the soft glow from the lanterns swaying gently from the trees.

“It’s more…anticipation. Excitement.”

He smirked. “You’re really doing it.”

“I am,” I said, glancing toward the farmhouse.

My pulse increased like it used to whenever I was about to be shoved into that cage to fight.

This time, it wasn’t out of fear. This was out of pure joy. Although that seemed like too simple of a word to fully describe how it felt to finally be here. To finally marry Imogene.

It still felt surreal, like I might wake up back in the cell that had become my home for years. The outcome could have been so different if Henry didn’t put the pieces together when he did. If he didn’t follow his gut.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you,” I told him, meeting his eyes. “Imogene, either. I’ll never be able to repay you for that, Henry.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” he replied, his tone softer than usual. “But if we’re keeping score, we’re probably even after all the times you saved my ass back in the day.”

“That was different.”

“Not really.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You’ve always had my back, Sam. And now I get to stand here and watch you marry the woman of your dreams with nothing standing in your way.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

“I love you, brother,” he said, though his voice cracked ever so slightly.

Before I could respond, the first notes of the processional music floated through the air. I flexed my hands, trying to channel the restless energy humming inside me.

The soft murmur of our guests and the rustling leaves faded into the background as I focused on the aisle that Imogene would soon walk down on her way to become my wife.

“Breathe, Gideon,” Henry reminded me in a low voice. “I could be wrong, but most brides prefer their grooms to remain conscious for the ceremony.”

I released a laugh, grateful for his grounding presence. But my attention snapped back to the farmhouse as the back door opened.

My heart leapt into my throat as Melanie appeared in a yellow dress, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. She carried a small bouquet of white roses, her smile radiating joy for her best friend.

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