Chapter 4 My Groom Is His Uncle

By the time Sienna and Ronan reached the ballroom level, the hotel had changed around them.

The portrait outside the entrance no longer showed Sienna smiling beside Arnold. The new image showed Ronan behind her, one hand at her waist, his dark gaze fixed on the camera.

They had taken the photographs two weeks earlier in a private studio.

Sienna had suggested editing Ronan into Arnold's pictures if the switch became necessary.

Ronan had refused.

"If my face is going on your wedding wall," he had said, "it will be attached to my body."

At the time, she thought he was protecting his pride.

Looking at the photograph now, she wondered why the way he held her seemed so natural.

Hotel staff removed the last flower arrangement bearing Arnold's initials. A new silver crest had already appeared above the ballroom doors: the Walsh emblem crossed with Ronan's personal mark.

Nothing about this looked temporary.

Yahir hurried from the elevator with Carmen and Rosie behind him.

Rosie had covered the mark on her cheek with makeup, but her eyes burned.

"Mr. Walsh." Yahir stopped short when he saw Ronan dressed as the groom. "What is happening?"

"A wedding," Ronan said.

Yahir forced an uncertain laugh. "Of course. But Arnold—"

"Isn't here."

"There must be some misunderstanding."

"Arnold made his choice." Sienna tightened her fingers around Ronan's arm. "I made mine."

Carmen stared at their linked arms. "Sienna, stop this before you embarrass us any further."

Ronan turned his head.

That was all.

The corridor fell silent.

Two of his security men stood near the elevators. Another watched the ballroom entrance. None displayed a weapon, but the shape beneath each jacket was clear.

The Walsh family's legitimate guests might pretend this was an ordinary society wedding. Everyone else knew the men controlling Boston's docks, private security contracts, and less legal trade routes were gathered on the other side of those doors.

Ronan was not simply Arnold's uncle.

He was the Boss.

"Mrs. Carlton," he said, "you will speak to my bride with respect."

Carmen's face lost its color.

Rosie quickly stepped forward. "Mr. Walsh, I'm sure you're only helping Sienna save the ceremony. It's very generous, but you don't have to go this far."

Ronan's eyes moved to her.

Rosie's voice weakened. "I mean... everyone knows how much she loves Arnold."

"Do they?"

"She's loved him for years."

"Then today must be educational for everyone."

Rosie swallowed.

Ronan looked toward Sienna. "Do you love Arnold?"

Every person in the corridor waited.

Sienna remembered how many times she had said yes in her first life. She had called obsession devotion and accepted pain as proof that love required sacrifice.

"No," she said. "I don't."

The answer came easier than she expected.

Ronan's thumb brushed once over the back of her hand.

"There's your explanation."

Yahir lowered his voice. "Sienna, think carefully. This involves two families and hundreds of millions of dollars. You can't change husbands because of one argument."

"Arnold didn't argue with me. He abandoned me."

"He'll come back."

"By then, I'll be married to someone else."

Rosie glanced at the new wedding portrait. Jealousy slipped through her performance before she could hide it.

"Those pictures were taken before today," she whispered.

Sienna smiled. "Very observant."

"You planned this."

"I prepared for Arnold to disappoint me. There's a difference."

The musicians inside the ballroom reached the final bars of the waiting music. The coordinator hurried toward them, pale and breathless.

"Mr. Walsh, Ms. Carlton, the guests are becoming restless. The ceremony should have started ten minutes ago."

Ronan checked his watch.

"Start it now."

Yahir moved in front of Sienna. "I'm supposed to walk my daughter down the aisle."

For one fragile moment, the old Sienna wanted to let him.

Then she looked through the open side door and saw the Carlton family table. Her parents and brothers had arranged every seat around Rosie. Even at Sienna's wedding, the chair beside Carmen bore Rosie's name.

Sienna had spent one life waiting for that family to choose her.

She would not begin her second life by begging again.

"You gave up that right a long time ago," she said.

Yahir flinched.

Ronan placed his hand over hers. "She won't walk alone."

The coordinator signaled the musicians.

Inside, the room darkened. Hundreds of conversations faded as the giant screen above the stage changed.

Arnold's face disappeared.

The new photograph filled the screen.

A ripple of shock moved through the ballroom.

"Is that Ronan Walsh?"

"Where's Arnold?"

"They changed the groom?"

Sienna could hear the whispers multiplying.

Ronan leaned close enough for his breath to warm her ear.

"Nervous?"

"A little."

"Good."

She looked up at him.

"Fear keeps you alert," he said. "But you don't need it today."

The ballroom doors began to open.

Ronan offered her his arm, his expression calm and merciless.

"Let them look."