Page 28 of Craving Their Omega

And then that’s it. We’re married. Locked in with each other for a whole year.

The music starts up again, a lovely piano exit, and the four of us walk back down the aisle together. Everyone around us is standing and clapping, and I barely take any of it in.

It all feels surreal, like it could be happening in a dream.

Once we’re out of the hall, Fletcher and Delia swoop in again. The reception is at a different venue, one that’s larger and more elegant for a wedding with three powerful CEOs at the head of it.

They talk timeline and food as we head out of the church and into a long limo that’s waiting outside.

I recognize Jonas, standing by the doors to the back of the limo, and I flash him a smile.

“It’s good to see you, Penelope,” he says, nodding.

“Thanks,” I reply. “You too.”

He grins and gestures for me to get in the car, and I do. The doors are closed behind us, and Jonas goes around to get in the front seat to drive.

“Congratulations on the wedding, by the way,” Jonas says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Was it everything you wanted?”

I smile back, wringing my hands together in my lap out of sight. It’s a complicated question, considering ‘marry three Alphas for show’ was never on the list of things I wanted in my life at all. I’d always imagined if I was to get married, there would be people there for me. Friends at least, if not family, helping me get dressed and do my hair, smiling at me from the seats as I walked down the aisle toward someone who loved me enough to want to take this step with me.

None of that had happened today. But I think back to the fairy lights that were strung up and the way the three of them—my husbands now, which is going to take a lot of getting used to—kissed me.

“It was beautiful,” I finally tell Jonas. And that much, at least, is true.

The venue for the reception is one of those fancy country club type places that I’ve never had enough money to even breathe the air inside of. There’s a valet outside, but he clearly knows Jonas because he waves him around to park the limo himself.

The building is beautiful, built on modern lines but with an eye for aesthetics. It’s all cream colored stone and dark wood, and I’m sure that renting this place for however long our reception is going to be cost more than I’ve made in the last year.

“All right,” Dominic says as Jonas pulls the car to a smooth stop. “This is where we have to sell it. There will be cameras and people with a million questions in there. Make it convincing.”

“What… does that mean, exactly?” I ask him, fidgeting nervously in my seat.

He pins me with a look, but it’s not unkind. “Smile for the cameras and the crowd, little bird,” he says. “If anyone asks how you feel, tell them it’s the best day of your life or something like that. Or play up being flustered and too excited to know how to feel, that will work too.”

I nod, turning that over in my head. I can land somewhere in the middle of that, I’m sure.

“I’m tired of smiling,” Tristan mutters. “Smiling too long makes my face hurt.” From anyone else, it might have sounded whiny, but Tristan just sounds gruff and guarded, the way he always does.

His words draw my eyes to his face, handsome and unreadable, and the scar there. He doesn’t cover it, doesn’t make any move to hide it from people’s prying eyes, but he also doesn’t talk about it either.

He doesn’t talk about much atall, I guess, and he doesn’t really have a vibe that makes you feel like it’s okay to come up and ask him questions anyway.

Still, I have to wonder how he got that scar. It had to have been something serious, for it to be so pronounced the way it is.

“Let’s do this,” Xavier says, nudging me with his arm and startling me out of my thoughts. He grins, and I find a smile for him, even though I’m sure it shakes with nerves.

Jonas helps me out of the car and I fix my dress, fluffing up the parts that were crushed by the car ride.

It’s quiet outside the club as we walk up to the front doors, and I’m grateful for that at least. I had visions of reporters and photographers standing outside, all clamoring for a quote and a picture to go with whatever story they were going to write about the three CEOs of Vantage and their new bride.

Some of the relief fades when we step inside and I see a sea of people. It feels like even more of them are here than were at the wedding, and when I think about it, that’s probably the case. People who didn’t get an invitation to the wedding itself, but who managed to be important enough to come to the reception.

They don’t make any secret of their desire to talk to us either. As soon as the doors shut behind us, there is a swarm of people surrounding us. Flashes go off as people take pictures, and the men just sort of… roll with it. Dominic and Xavier smile, and Tristan keeps his expression neutrally pleasant as they glance in various directions as people snap their shots of us. I try to follow their lead, not knowing where to look or how to feel about any of it.

Dominic said we had to sell it, but I feel kind of like I’ve been thrown into the deep end without a life jacket.

Through the clamor I can make out people calling their congratulations and teasing the men about finally being off the market. A lot of them have eyes on me, and I can feel the curiosity in their stares.

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