Page 221 of By His Vow

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Page 221 of By His Vow

“Boys,” Dad chastises.

“I didn’t say anything about fucking. They probably pulled up Disney+ and watched Beauty and the Beast to remind Tate that there is always hope that KC might not always be an ugly motherfucker.”

A laugh punches from my chest as I listen to them bicker.

Giving myself one final look, I turn toward the door and walk out to find my boys.

“Ah, here he is,” Dad says, watching as I move across the room.

We’re all wearing matching suits, and I have to say, we look fucking good.

“How are you feeling?” Kian asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, good. Ready to get this done.”

“Bro,” Kieran says, backhanding Miles in the chest. “Lil sis is so lucky—you hear that enthusiasm?”

“Fuck off,” Miles grunts, long over the mocking about Tatum.

“Here,” Kian says, holding out a full bottle of Macallan between us. “Hair of the dog?”

I stare at it, my stomach swirling from the amount of it we drank last night.

“No,” I state. “I want to go into this with a clear head.”

He nods once before twisting the top and swallowing down a shot, then handing it to Kieran, who offers it to Miles.

He eagerly takes it and swallows down a couple of shots before slamming it back into the center of Kieran’s massive chest.

“Okay, I need to go and get Tate,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.

I nod.

“We’ll see you down there,” Kian says, clapping Miles on the shoulder.

As I watch him leave, an unnecessary and unwanted belt of nerves hits me.

What if she changes her mind at the last minute?

What if she’s already run?

I’ve no idea where the thoughts come from, or why I allow them to fester, but now that they’ve made themselves known, the initial fluttering in my stomach only gets worse.

“You okay, Bro? You look like you’re about to hurl,” Kian says.

“Probably just realized that he’s about to be related to Miles,” Kieran points out.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Dad says, stepping closer to steal my attention. I guess he should be the one to understand how I’m feeling—he’s been married more times than I care to count. It’s like a hobby or some shit at this point. I’m just unsure if he’s collecting the brides or the rings. Or something else entirely. The whole thing seems like a lot of effort when each one only ends in divorce in a few short months or years. I guess he’s keeping our lawyers busy.

Squaring my shoulders, I look him dead in the eyes. “I’m not worried. It’s the first day of a whole new start for all of us.”

Dad smiles, pride washing through his features as he stares back at me.

“Right, well. Shall we get this show on the road then?” he asks, refusing to say the words that are balancing on the tip of his tongue.

It’s fine. I’m used to imagining praise from him at this point.

The second we get down to the grand ballroom where the service is taking place, Dad slips off to find Jackie and greet several associates he invited.




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