Page 62 of Reckless Forever
“Good morning, Mr. Jennings,”
“Appreciate you stopping by,” We shook hands as I let the door fall closed behind him.
“Give me a minute,” I said, leaving him in the front area. I walked back into the room where Ivy was still in the same position that I had left her.
I shook her and tried to wake her up; after some effort, she finally opened her eyes. She groaned like I was waking her up for fun, and we weren’t about to have a wedding in a few hours.
“Shorty, get up and wash your face real quick; your team will be to your room in a little while, and I have something I need to show you,” I said.
She didn’t move at first, and I had to literally bring her to the edge of the bed myself. She sat up and slapped the mattress, hair all over her head, and the other half of the makeup staining the white sheets.
“Go ahead,” I nodded toward the bathroom.
She dragged herself over to the bathroom. I leaned in the doorway until she got herself together and waited for what I wanted to show her. I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the living room, where the officiant stood.
“Good morning, Ivy,” he said sharply as he extended his hand to her.
“Good morning,” she said lowly and shot a glance at me, wondering what this was about.
“This is the Mafia officiant for the wedding. I know that we’re about to have a ceremony, but I wanted to have him officiate our marriage in private. I wanted to finish the rest of our lives the same way we started. Just me and you.”
She smiled, and I could see the emotion in her eyes. But she pushed through and didn’t let the tears welling up fall.
“I love that, let’s do it.” She said as she straightened her dress.
There, in the hotel suite, we went through a whole script just like we would in a couple of hours. We took two oaths, a standard oath and the oath of the Mafia elites.
Mr. Jennings repeat after me, “I vow that your blood is mine to protect and mine to claim. Whoever harms you, I will hunt. Whoever crosses you, I will bury. From this day, your enemies are mine, and your fate is tied to me.”
Ivy’s eyebrows rose as I said the words to her.
Mrs. Jennings repeat after me, “Your blood is my blood, your war is my war. I take your enemies as my own, your sins as my silence. From this day, I carry your name until death.”
I could hear the hesitation in her voice as she spoke the words. Now that we were all national Mafia elites, the weddings looked a bit different. There was no standard “to have and to hold” speech. The realization of what she was entering was all over her face. But once she was done, I winked at her.
“Very well. This union is sealed in blood and bound by honor. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
I kissed her, and once he left, I walked her to her suite, where her team was waiting for her in the hallway. Forever had just begun.
CHAPTER 18
Ivy
“Look up for me, baby,” the makeup artist murmured, her tone soft but firm. She stood at my side with her palette balanced in one hand and her brushes in the front of her black apron, like tools. I did as she asked, letting my eyes lift toward the ceiling, focusing on the beauty of the chandelier above me.
I tried to hold perfectly still while she traced the line of my lashes. It wasn’t easy; too much was happening all at once. The hairstylist stood behind me with a dozen pins in her mouth, molding the curls of my hair into what I had requested. Something soft but beautiful, with my veil draped across her arm like a towel. At my feet, my wedding coordinator kneeled with a bottle of oil in hand, smoothing it into my legs so they were nice and moisturized.
Three sets of hands pulling, brushing, fixing, molding. And I was stuck in the middle of it, still trying to recover from last night.
Hungover was an understatement. My head felt like it had been put in a dryer, and I was struggling not to support it with my hand. When Judah warned me to be “prepared to hang with Storm,” I didn’t think that this was what he meant. I assumed that he meant she was the type who didn’t know when to call ita night. But no. Storm was a different breed altogether. She was wild, liberated in ways I hadn’t allowed myself to be in years. She moved like the world belonged to her, and I’m sure that her husband made sure that it did.
Last night, she pulled me into her world faster than I could control. Shots that I couldn’t count, and on the terrace of a lounge, dancing until my feet were aching in my red bottoms. I was still so drunk that if I closed my eyes, I could still feel the bass in my chest, still hear Storm laughing as she challenged me to outdrink her. I didn’t win. But I still tried.
I should have been curled up in the dark with an IV in my arm. But instead, I was being sculpted into a bride fit for a family like this. Honestly, I loved every second and was probably about to get ready to do it all over again tonight.
“Knock, knock.”
The voice barely came through the thick wooden door, but I heard it. The stylists paused for a beat, and my coordinator moved to answer. But a moment later, the door cracked open, and Ms. Meena slipped inside.
