But somehow, she’s mine.
And for the first time in a long time, the future isn’t a storm I have to brace against.
It feels like peace.
Chapter 23
Magnolia Steel
The presidential suite at the Harbourview Grand is cluttered by the aftermath of eight women getting glam at once. Hair tools, lipstick tubes, and setting sprays are scattered across the counter. It’s a mess that says a good night is about to happen.
Violet twirls in front of the full-length mirror, her black sequin jumpsuit catching every flicker of light like a disco ball with legs. “Do I look like a bride’s responsible maid of honor who won’t let her drink too much and embarrass herself?”
“Hell no,” Leilani calls out from the sofa, sipping Prosecco. “You look more like the maid of honor who’s going to get shit-faced with her friends and future sisters-in-law.”
Violet lifts her glass with a playful smile. “Aww, sisters-in-law. We’re not even engaged, but I love y’all already.” Violet blinks rapidly. “First drink in and I’m already getting mushy. Someone cut me off right now.”
Leilani tips her glass in Violet’s direction, eyes twinkling. “No way in hell I’m letting a potential sister-in-law like you get away from Elias. I’ll put him in a chokehold and drag him to the jeweler myself if I have to.”
Violet laughs, shaking her head. “Did you hear that, Magnolia? A chokehold. Leilani, you’re the sweetest little psychopath I’ve ever met.”
Leilani’s a vision in black satin—tight, short, and unapologetic—with a strapless neckline and a flourish of feathers crowning the top of her bodice. They flutter every time she moves, which is often.
“You’re both psychopaths, if we’re being honest—but at least you’re hot ones.”
Leilani winks. “Takes one to know one, bridezilla. And to be clear—I meant hottie, not psychopath.”
“She’s a psychopath too,” Violet adds, lifting her glass with a grin. “Hot and a handful. It’s a package deal.”
Their laughter dances around me as I glance toward the mirror. Tonight, I look every inch the bride. The white dress is sexy yet elegant, hugging in all the right places—made for celebration, not subtlety. A sash that reads “BRIDE” rests diagonally across my chest in bold, glittering gold, proudly declaring my status, while a headband veil crowns my hair, its delicate tulle trailing down my back.
Chloe’s already a drink or two in, standing at the mirror in a black bodycon that hugs her curves like she was melted and poured into it. She swipes on a fresh coat of lip gloss, lips pursed in concentration. “I’m not sure what kind of night you lot are planning to have,” she says, smacking her lips, “but I’m out for a real good time. And I’m not about to get picky about what that includes.”
“Brace yourself, everyone,” Julia says, smoothing the black sheath dress that hugs her curves with classy restraint. “I’ve got a babysitter, a breast pump in my purse, and zero intentions of going home early.”
“I’m ready to celebrate the end of single life with the best girls ever. Let’s make this a night to remember,” I say, adjusting the strap of my white silk slip dress.
My reflection stares back at me—white dress, glittering sash, veil cascading down. There’s no mistaking it. I’m a bride.
Laurelyn leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. She looks perfect in black satin, not a hair out of place. “You’re a dream, babe.”
Krishna is at my side with a flute of something bubbly for me and a sparkling water for herself. “To the bride,” she says, voice warm, eyes shimmering.
“May your night be wild and your hangover mild,” Violet says, clinking her glass against mine.
“To questionable decisions and unforgettable memories,” Chloe says.
Leilani raises her glass, her grin downright wicked. “To my new sister—may tonight be legendary, and tomorrow’s hangover absolutely worth it.”
I take a moment, just a breath, to soak it in. These women. This moment. The chaos, the love, the unapologetic glitter.
I’m getting married in a week. But tonight, I’m letting them drag me wherever they want. Within reason.
Probably.
The moment we step onto the party bus, it’s clear Leilani and Violet have no intentions of easing me into the night.
The interior is a riot of neon lights, chrome rails, velvet bench seats, and a bar already stocked with everything under the sun, glitter shot glasses, and what resembles a portable karaoke mic.
