Nathan
The grand glass doors of St. Michael’s swung shut behind us, cutting off the suffocating, holy-rolled hush of the congregation. Afternoon light hit the stone courtyard in a sharp white glare, but the only thing keeping my attention was the woman attached to my arm.
Gabriella was practically vibrating with adrenaline.
The second we cleared the doorway, she snatched her hand back from mine, whirled around on her high heels, and looked at me like I’d just pulled a weapon.
"Your cousin?!" she choked out, her voice dropping into an urgent, furious whisper. "You are Joel’s cousin?!"
I didn't blink. I casually slid my hands into the pockets of my tailored charcoal trousers, letting my eyes travel slowly over the deep flush spreading across her collarbones and cheeks. She was stunning when she was composed, but flushed and furious? She was breathtaking.
"Second cousin, technically," I corrected smoothly, keeping my tone a cool, velvet rumble. "My father and his mother share a grandfather. But yes. Family."
"Are you insane?!" Her hands flew up to her temples as she took a sharp step back, her red dress swishing around her calves. "I hired a random guy outside a church to throw off my toxic ex-boyfriend! I didn't hire his relative! Do you have any idea how complicated this just made my life?!"
"You didn't hire a random guy, sweetheart," I said softly.
I took one slow, deliberate step forward until the toes of my polished Italian leather shoes nearly touched hers. The subtle scent of her perfume—vanilla mixed with something warm and distinctly hers—filled the space between us.
"You hired me. And as I recall, you offered a thousand dollars for an hour of my time."
"That was before I knew you shared a bloodline with the man who ruined my self-esteem!"
"The man who is currently sweating through his tuxedo because he thinks you moved on to someone vastly superior," I countered, letting a slow smirk pull at the corner of my mouth. "Isn't that what you wanted? To make him choke on his regret?"
Her breath hitched. She opened her mouth to argue, but I saw the exact moment the realization landed behind her eyes. The anger softened, replaced by the sheer satisfaction of remembering the look on Joel’s face when I’d pulled her against my side inside the nave. He had looked pathetic. Shrunk down to nothing.
"Besides," I added, my gaze drifting over her head toward the parking lot where my security detail was quietly sweeping the perimeter, "you're not the only one getting something out of this."
Gabriella frowned, her dark eyes searching my face. "What do you mean, Nathan?"
Before I could answer her, the heavy church doors burst open behind us.
A woman draped in emerald green silk and dripping in obnoxiously loud diamonds marched out onto the stone, her heels clicking like gunshots. My Aunt Eleanor. Trailing behind her like a kicked dog was Joel, pale, disheveled, and completely drained of his usual smug arrogance.
"Nathan!" Eleanor barked, her voice echoing across the empty courtyard.
I didn't flinch. I slowly turned around, unbuttoning the top button of my suit jacket to give myself room to move, and casually stepped sideways. My broad frame completely blocked Gabriella from Eleanor’s sight line.
"Aunt Eleanor," I greeted smoothly, keeping my voice utterly devoid of warmth. "Congratulations on Joel’s wedding. The floral arrangements were... adequate."
"Don't you dare talk to me about flowers!" Eleanor snapped, coming to a dead halt three feet away. Her eyes narrowed into bitter slits as she leaned around me to drag her gaze over Gabriella’s red dress, her bare shoulders, and her curves. "Who is this woman?! What happened to Lina? You were supposed to bring Lina as your guest today! And what is this absurd lie Joel is telling me about an engagement?!"
Joel shuffled his feet, staring firmly at the stonework. "Mom, I told you... it’s Gabby. She used to... we used to know each other."
"I don't care who she used to be!" Eleanor hissed, her upper lip curling with pure high-society disgust as she bypassed me to address Gabriella directly. "You show up to a sacred family ceremony in a dress like that, clutching my nephew's arm, causing a spectacle? Who raised you?"
I watched Gabriella’s shoulders drop half an inch. A tiny shadow of doubt crossed her face—the instinct to shrink, to apologize for taking up space in a world of miserable people.
Not on my watch.
I reached out and planted my right hand firmly on the side of her waist. My thumb pressed into the soft, gorgeous curve of her hip through the crimson silk, locking her flush against my body. The heat of her flared against my palm.
"Watch your tone, Aunt Eleanor," I said. My voice didn't rise. It dropped an octave into something low, icy, and lethal.
Eleanor froze, the color draining from her face as she caught the shift in the air.
"Gabby is my guest," I continued, holding my aunt's glare until she broke eye contact. "She is also my fiancée. You will speak to her with respect, or I will make sure Joel’s personal standing with the board—and the rest of this family's trust funds—becomes very uncomfortable by Monday morning."
Joel gasped, turning ash-gray. "Nathan, wait—don't drag business into this!"
"Try me," I murmured.
Silence descended over the courtyard, heavy and complete. Eleanor swallowed hard, her diamond necklace trembling against her throat. She realized within three seconds what Joel was too stupid to grasp: I didn't make idle threats.
She threw one last bitter look at Gabriella, snapped her mouth shut, grabbed Joel by the elbow, and dragged him back toward the reception doors without another word.
When they were gone, the courtyard returned to quiet. I felt the rapid, unsteady rhythm of Gabriella’s breathing against my chest.
Slowly, I turned my head down to look at her.
"You... you just stood up to your own family for me?" she whispered, her voice laced with genuine shock.
The coldness in my chest melted instantly under her gaze. My hand stayed anchored on her hip, my thumb tracing a small, slow circle against the silk of her dress. She had no idea how breathtaking she was—how every line of her body demanded attention, how she filled out a room while women like Lina and my aunt were hollowed out by their own vanity.
"I stood up to her because she was rude to my fiancée," I said, my voice raspy as I leaned down. "And because nobody gets to make you feel small while you're with me."
A visible shiver ran down her spine.
"Now," I murmured, my lips stopping inches from her ear, the heat of her skin fanning against my jaw. "The reception is downstairs. Half the family is inside, including my ex-girlfriend who thinks she’s going to embarrass me today. We have a deal to finish, sweetheart. Are you staying by my side, or are you running away?"
Gabriella looked up into my eyes. She didn't shrink. She didn't flinch.
Instead, she reached up with slender fingers, adjusted the dark lapels of my suit jacket, and gave me a smile made of pure, unadulterated fire.
"Running away was never part of my plan."
A small, genuine smile pulled at my lips.
"Shall we?"