| BOOK SIX | THE LONDON CRIME KING | A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE NOVEL |
This book contains adult language and subject matter, including graphic violence, drugs and explicit sex that may be disturbing to some readers.
This series is NOT a typical romance...
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Judith's elegant yet modest bridal gown of velvety tulle, passementerie appliques and illusion scoop neckline stole the show for many, but for me, Martin's devotion to the beautiful bride marked the highest pinnacle of perfection, for there is nothing more perfect than one of your siblings living the best life.
You want the people you love to be happy, and Judith, irrespective of radiant beauty and intricate lace, is responsible for Martin's smile.
The private ceremony occurred in the massive ballroom festooned with heavily decorated aisle flowers: pedestal arrangements, table cascades and floor urns.
I had back-row seats alongside Hugo, Benjamin and Quinn, with four empty spaces where Mary and her entourage should have been seated. But Mary never showed her face, which did not come as a surprise. My older sister warned me that lateness might be an issue when I swung by her room earlier.
Miles is the best man. He stood joyfully and proudly at our brother's side while his girlfriend, Thalia, had front-row seats with Hamish, Martha and the in-laws. All cooped together like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.
I hated both incidents.
Miles and Martin stayed close over the years, and even though three other siblings were benched for the ceremony, there was only one brother amongst the ostracism faced by females. Benjamin was excluded. He was left out in the cold, on the outskirts of the room, with the deplorable sisters, the family's rejects, like there was not enough space for one more male in a suit at the altar.
It was a hard pill to swallow. I know my twin, whether he showed it or not, would have felt the burn of rejection. His need to protect his sister might have led to sibling estrangement, but Martin and Miles insisted on repairing our broken family because they missed having us around, in particular, Benjamin, as the loss of him damaged the dynamic trio—a missing piece of the puzzle. Yet, they spurned him. They put him in the corner with us, Mary and me. Like he deserved the cold-shoulder. The silent treatment.
Then we have Thalia, who played happy families with our parents as if their biological children were anything but confined to hours of propinquity with them. I spent more time watching the three of them fawn over each other than the newfound joys of love and matrimony.
Once the marriage officiant pronounced Martin and Judith husband and wife, the guests dispersed from one ballroom to another to enjoy a round of mocktails whilst the bride and groom, in the company of the beautifully gowned bridesmaids and smartly suited groomsmen, headed to the manicured garden for sunset photos and faux champagne.
Luckily, there was an alcohol-stocked bar in the hotel's main function room, where most of the wedding guests ventured throughout the day to sneak shots of liquor.
I am not a vodka aficionado, but I practically begged the barman to lace my drinks as the thought of fake cocktails sent my brain into overdrive. I will never survive the rest of the weekend without the numbing qualities of intoxication.
