Page 98 of Desperate Measures

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Page 98 of Desperate Measures

Loud laughter.

And the love of my life claiming me in front of my entire family.

What could be better?

“Hungry?” I asked everyone.

Cheers went up all around. I giggled and nodded, and Liam placed his hand on my back and led me to the front of the line.

“I believe the bride goes first,” he said, glaring at all my cousins who dared try to cut me in line.

I bit my lips and laughed, tugging him away from the food.

“Let them go first. I have everything I want right here,” I said, nodding at the DJ to turn up the music.

Champagne flowed.

Food was eaten.

Jokes were told.

Vows were spoken.

And a compilation of our favorite music played in the background

But best of all, I danced the night away in my handsome husband’s arms.

Our love might have started out as a desperate measure taken by an unhinged woman to try to secure her position as head of the O’Doyle family. What happened instead was the perfect merger of two strong hearts destined to belong together.

I’d do anything for my husband, and I knew Liam felt the same. He told me in a million different ways every single day.

The least of which was not in the way he supported my position as a full partner and co-owner of ODI. My brilliant husband was so thrilled by the new team of computer engineers I’d put together, he was sure that we’d advanced the release of his new nano battery by at least eighteen months.

In fact, he told me nothing I did could pleasantly surprise him as much as that. But I was about to prove him wrong.

“Husband?”

“Yes, Wife?” he said, pulling me closer as we danced to a slow song.

“You know that trip to the mine we were supposed to take in October?”

“Yeah. You still want to bring Clementine?”

“I do, but we might have to go earlier. Like before September.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because it's not safe to fly in the third trimester.”

“Oh, sure—wait. What?”

He stopped swaying, freezing in the middle of the dance floor.

“Easy, bro” Uncle Nico said, when he bumped into him. “Uh, what’s wrong with him?”

“She’s—You’re! Are you sure?”

“Yep,” I said, tears of joy dancing down my cheeks.




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