Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I fish my phone out of my purse and turn it on for the first time since we landed.
The moment it starts chirping, I wish I hadn’t.
“She’s asked Reverend Enderbey to marry us!” I cry, seeing red as I scroll through Mama’s messages. All thirty-two that she sent since I hung up with her before leaving Alaska this morning.
“Sullivan.” Henry nods his thanks as the security guard steps aside to allow us into the elevator. The lineman-sized giant was waiting to greet us when Victor parked the car. “Would he fly to Alaska to officiate?”
“I don’t know, but she’s already booked the church for our ceremony.” My thumb swipes at the screen as I speed-read. “And she’s called the rental company for our reception in the barn! And—oh my God—she’s asked three of my cousins to be my bridesmaids!” It keeps getting worse the farther down I go.
Henry’s chuckle reverberates.
“This is not funny!”
“Are you surprised? She knows she can’t stop you from marrying me, so she’s found a new way to try to gain control.”
“I knew she’d want to have a say on things, but I didn’t think she’d have our whole wedding planned before our plane landed. And all this? This was supposed to be Jed’s and my wedding. She’s just swapped out the grooms.” Which is especially surprising, given Mama was convinced Henry was the devil himself walking the earth until only recently.
“I am definitely not Fuckface,” Henry grumbles.
I hold up my phone to show Henry the picture of Mama’s wedding dress, pulled from storage and hanging in my bedroom in Greenbank. “Ready to be sized for me.”
He frowns. “Is that a bow?”
“One of several.”
He shakes his head. “Rethinking city hall yet?”
I groan.
Sullivan whistles before flashing a gap-toothed grin. “Gotta say, I thought my mother was demanding, but sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Ms. Mitchell.”
I falter at his use of my name. I’ve never met this man, though I know Henry replaced the guards who let Scott into the penthouse. But then I remind myself that everyone in Wolf Tower’s security staff knows who I am. They’re paid to. “She’s going to ruin our wedding.”
“No, she isn’t.” Henry wraps his hand around my nape, his thumb drawing small, calming circles against my skin. “It’s your wedding. Tell her thanks, but no thanks.”
“If only it were that easy.”
The elevator approaches the lobby level and Henry’s chest rises, the only sign that the media attention bothers him. “No reporters inside, right?”
“None, sir. But your niece has been waiting for you for hours.”
Henry’s face screws up. “My niece. I don’t have—”
The elevator doors open with a ding, and another massive security guard waits outside to escort us to our penthouse elevator.
Henry’s still wearing that look of confusion when Sullivan gestures toward a girl of maybe sixteen sitting on a bench. “Are you saying she’s not related to you, sir?”
Henry’s mouth opens, but he falters on his answer.
The girl looks up, sees Henry, and jumps out of her seat, smoothing her hands over lengthy ash brown hair as she glances around her. Perhaps searching for an escape? She looks like any regular teenager, with blue jeans and an oversized gray hoodie and scuffed black and white Chucks.
“Sir, if she’s falsely impersonating your niece, we should get you—”
“It’s okay.” Henry waves Sullivan off, his face unreadable as he approaches her. “Hello. Who are you?”
She takes a deep, shaky breath as she meets his gaze.
There’s something so familiar about her. I can’t quite place it, though. Have I met her before?
“You told people you’re my niece. I only have one brother that I’m aware of. Are you saying Scott Wolf was your father?”
She clears her throat but doesn’t speak.
Henry crosses his arms, waiting for an answer. As if she weren’t already nervous enough, he will make it tenfold worse.
There’s a scuffle at the entrance. A photographer has managed to slide past the doorman and is in the lobby, snapping pictures of us as security guards close in. The distraction gives the girl time to bolt. In seconds, she’s running, ducking around bodies and out the door as we’re ushered to the elevator.
“She had to be, what, sixteen? Seventeen at most?”
“Or younger. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
Henry stares up at the ceiling, the silky bedsheet pooled around his waist. “Scott would’ve had to be in his first or second year of college when she was born. He never mentioned anything to me about a daughter.”
“Would he, though? You guys weren’t close.”
“He didn’t hate me quite so much back then.” His lips twist. “Unless he didn’t know about her. That would explain why there’s no mention of her in his will. He was a fucking degenerate, but even he would leave something behind for his daughter. I have to believe that much about him.”