Page 282 of Broken Saint

The boutique hotel we chose for our big day has been fully decorated, and the moment the elevator doors open, we’re greeted by purple flowers and our wedding planner.

She looks at each of us before asking, “Where’s the best man?”

“Coming, hopefully,” I mutter before taking off toward the room where the ceremony is going to be taking place within the hour.

I walk down the aisle, with my boys behind, attempting to take it all in.

I’m getting fucking married.

I truly never thought I’d see the day.

But here we are.

Ella Myers is going to become Ella Rogers right here on this spot.

Just thinking about it causes the widest smile to spread across my face.

Ella is finally going to officially be mine.

Our planner goes through how the day is going to run as if she hasn’t already done it ten times before and a few of our guests arrive early.

West is still a no-show though.

“Will you go up and drag him down here?” I ask when Dad and Hilda appear before us.

“Son,” Dad greets.

We talked after the meal last night, but it was short and curt and we very quickly went our separate ways.

“Good morning.”

The two of them part and I’m faced with a girl who looks much older than I was expecting. Dad has barely said a word about our new sister, only that she’s still in high school.

“Colton, this is Nova, Hilda’s daughter.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Sorry I didn’t make it back down last night,” she explains as if her absence was noticed. “My brother sends his apologies for not attending.”

Her brother. Now there is someone we’ve all heard of.

Lincoln Storm plays professional hockey for the LA Vipers. I might not be much of a hockey fan, but I’ve seen his name and photo on my screen enough to feel like I know him despite having never met him.

“Great,” I say probably a little less enthusiastically than I should.

I’m happy for Dad, I am. I just can’t help being a little skeptical of this whole thing.

“Where is your brother?” Dad asks just as movement at the entrance catches my eye.

“Jesus,” I mutter, looking up and seeing West being dragged into the room by Brax.

My brother might be wearing his suit and made an effort to do his hair, but the second I look into his eyes, it’s impossible to miss the hangover.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Dad complains as they approach.

West’s gaze locks on mine and doesn’t waiver as he steps up to me. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I—” Suddenly, he looks at Nova, his words falter, and his face twists in confusion.

“I’m going to get a mimosa before we start,” Hilda says, oblivious to West’s reaction to her daughter.