End Game: A Valentine Wedding (Games we Play) by Lindsey Powell

Author:Lindsey Powell [Powell, Lindsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Paige

As I stand in front of the mirror, in my wedding dress, I could pinch myself. It was only a short while ago that I wanted to gut Joey like a fucking fish, and now, here I stand, admiring my wedding dress so I can marry the bastard instead. And I can honestly say, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a one. Every hurdle we’ve jumped has been totally and utterly worth it. Our ride has been crazy, but there is no one else I would have gone through it with––or for.

When we say our vows today, they will solidify the last bond between us, and you can bet that we will take it literally when we say, “death do us part.”

“Paige,” I hear Meghan say from the bathroom. “We’ve only got ten minutes before…” Her voice fades off as she comes into view from the reflection in the mirror, her mouth dropping open slightly. Her silence rumbles on for a few seconds––which feels like hours––before I start to doubt my choice of dress, and I never fucking doubt myself, so this is serious.

“What’s wrong?” I find myself asking as I check over my dress again for any signs of imperfection in the material, but I find nothing. However, when I look back up, what I do find is Meghan with tears in her eyes. I’m momentarily stumped until she says, “You look so beautiful.”

“Jesus Christ, Meghan,” I say with a little relief. “I thought something was wrong.”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong, and today will be perfect.”

“Are you going all fucking soppy on me? Because you know I don’t do any of that girly squealing and crying shit.”

And she laughs as she shakes her head and seems to get herself together. Thank fuck for that, thought I might have to give her slap to break her out of whatever the hell that just was.

“Moving swiftly on,” she says as she walks over to the side and cracks open the bottle of champagne that is sitting there before she proceeds to pour some into two glasses. “A quick toast.” She places the bottle down and brings the glasses over, handing one to me before she squares her shoulders and holds her head high. “Here’s to you becoming Mrs Valentine and being the ultimate king and queen of the underworld.”

I smile at her and am about to take a sip of my champagne when she speaks again.

“Oh, and here’s to having a day off from killing or beating someone up,” she adds, and we both laugh as we sip our drinks, the minutes ticking down until I marry Joey Valentine.

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