It was less than two months to the wedding now. One month and three weeks, to be exact.
Sylvie knew because she had counted. More than once. On her phone calendar, on the small planner she barely used anymore, even in her head when sleep refused to come.
What had happened the other day at the private auction house, the gunfire, the panic, felt a bit distant now.
Zade truth to his nature, had come out of it just fine. More than fine, actually. His men eventually overwhelmed Nico's men. So she was told. The attackers had retreated. Losses were minimal and he described the situation as handled and resolved.
Two days after the incident, Zade had called her. Over and over again to ask if she was shaken or alright. The way he sounded was as though the danger itself hadn’t really registered
