“I love you, Aidan Hughes,” she whispers, leans up, and presses a kiss to my mouth.
“I love you, too.” I wink then take my place at the altar, alongside my brothers.
The music starts, and it’s in that moment I look around at the people sitting in the pews. Everyone is dressed impeccably.
All but one. The man sitting in the far corner with the over-grown hair, and the dark sunglasses on. Dilan. And that son of a bitch is not alone. Fuck, no, he’s not. He’s with Jazmin Maria Carlos. The daughter of the Mexican Mafia. The worst enemy of the Diamonds and the Solokovs. What in the fuck?