Chapter One
Brennon
I drum my fingers along the steering wheel, staring up at the imposing columns of the cathedral. My brother’s wedding is today, and I’m expected to be here.
I’d rather be at home where I don’t have to deal with the whispers and the pitying stares from my family’s high society friends.
They were my friends too. But the stroke stole the ability to communicate from me. I can mutter a few words here and there.
Nothing comes out right. It all gets stuck inside my head and despite the best speech therapy that money can buy and numerous consults with neurosurgeons, no one can put my brain back together again.
No one can turn back the clock and change the fact that at thirty, I had a massive stroke. They called it a patent foramen ovale, which means I had a fuckin’ hole in my heart. It went undetected for years until the day it caused the stroke.
Overnight, I changed from a billionaire CEO to a rambling guy who pissed himself and had to relearn how to walk. I did it. I regained everything but my ability to speak. It’s still not enough.
I’m not the same man I was, so I retreated. I built my own cabin in the mountains of Courage County, far from the family business.
I should have just sent a wedding gift and called it done. But I was curious about the woman my brother would marry. She has to be a gold digger, a fair-weather woman who will be gone the moment my brother needs support or companionship.
Forcing myself from the car, I nod at the men in suits that are carefully guarding the fancy cathedral here in Asheville.
I don’t even bother trying to speak, not when it’s clear they know who I am. I am an Abernathy and here that inspires admiration and respect. But mostly, well-earned fear.
I move through the winding halls without an escort or a guide, not eager for this reunion. I wonder if it’s too late to send the gift and duck out.
By now, the first look should be starting. Mom will want everyone gathered in one room so there can be dozens of family photos. After all, an event’s success is directly proportional to how much envy it causes in one’s upper crust friends.
I slip into the room. Cool air, ornate marble surfaces, and gold filigree scream that this is not the place where the poor worship. No, this is for sell-outs like us who make our money lying, cheating, and stealing from everyone around us. But at least, we look good doing it.
My eyes instantly go to Cadence, the name I recognize from the wedding invitation.
She’s a goddess with long, black flowing hair that’s coiffed up in a careful bun with a few tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. Her bright, blue eyes are filled not with anticipation at the events of the coming day but anxiety. Her plump red lips are so damn kissable. And those curves make my mouth water and leave me aching to hold her close.
There’s just one problem. She’s my brother’s girl. She’s wearing a wedding dress. She’s marrying that lucky bastard today. She carefully adjusts her veil and when she catches my eye in the mirror, she turns.
I lick my suddenly dry lips. I want to tell her to run away with me instead. I want to yell at her that she’s making the worst mistake of her life. That my brother—God forgive me—is a heartless bastard who will do nothing more than crush her hopes and dreams.
But there’s nothing to say. The words might come out as gibberish anyway.
Cadence gives me a guarded smile. She steps forward, her voice quiet and lilting. She’s a melody I forgot but the moment I hear it, I know every note by heart. “Hi, I’m Cadence.”
I nod to her. Maybe it’s a good thing that I can barely speak. Because if I could, only the filthiest words would be coming out of my mouth. Things that would make this curvy goddess blush for days.
“It’s nice to meet the last member of the family,” she says. Her knuckles are white from where she’s clutching the folds of the wedding gown. It looks like some monstrosity my mom forced her to wear. It wouldn’t surprise me if those are real diamonds sewed into the bodice.
I nod again, rather than try to speak.
“Your family is very nice.” She stumbles over the word and we both know why.
They’re vipers, every last one of them. Up until my stroke, I was the cruelest of them. But having your entire family turn on you when you’re alone in the hospital changes you.
Since I won’t risk saying anything, I put my hand on her shoulder. Even with the thin white material that signifies she belongs to my brother, the touch still feels right. It feels like I should be doing this every day, comforting her and protecting her.
She closes her eyes briefly, steadying herself.
But before she can say anything, my brother and his friends are stumbling into the room. I drop my hand and turn to them.
I should smile or something. I think I read once that families are happy to see each other. But whoever wrote that book never had a family like mine.
Andrew already reeks of alcohol. He always does these days. I used to joke that it wasn’t a holiday until Dad had bought Andrew out of a DUI and made his latest arrest go away. Back then, I thought that shit was funny. Now, it’s disgusting.
“Oh, good. You met her,” Andrew slurs. He sways on his feet.
I glance at Cadence, and her entire expression has gone blank. She turns to the mirror and pretends to fuss with her dress and hair, ignoring her husband-to-be.
I’m guessing this isn’t the magical first look that most couples have on their wedding day. Figures Andrew would be marrying as part of a business merger. I should have seen that coming.
I reach for his tie and quickly undo the sloppy knot. Cadence is sweet. She doesn’t fit in here among them. There’s no calculating gleam in her eye, no streak of cruelty that she’s waiting to unleash.
“She’s a fuckin’ hippo,” he complains as if she’s not in the room.
He makes a wheezing sound when I tighten the tie harder than necessary around his throat. He’ll never appreciate those big tits or those ample hips. He’ll never watch with awe and wonder as she climbs into his lap. He’ll never look at her and see his queen.
I glance toward Cadence, but there’s not even a hint of surprise on her face. Fuckin’ jack ass. This isn’t the first time he’s talked about her like this and certainly not the first time he’s done it in front of her. No, the only thing in her expression is steely determination. She must need him badly if she’s willing to put up with my brother.
“Put her fat ass on a diet,” one of the groomsmen suggests. He’s dealing cards to the other groomsmen.
I glare in the direction of the five guys I used to hang out with when I was together with my brother. Were they always like this? How did I never notice?
“Everyone knows that whales don’t diet,” another groomsmen quips and all of them break into cruel laughter that has my blood boiling.
I finish his tie and drop my hands, squeezing them into fists. She wants him. She’s chosen him. She knows what she’s getting.
“Hey, Cadence,” my brother leers. I hate the sound of her name on his lips. I hate the way he’s looking at her and the things he must think about her. His lips twist in a smile that’s anything but kind. “Can whales even orgasm?”
That’s how my older brother ends up on the floor with a bloody nose, crying like the little bitch he is.
It takes two of his asshole friends to pull me off of him because I might barely be able to speak but I’m still in fighting shape. Hell, I’m in better shape now than I ever was.
Somewhere in my brain, Cadence’s gasp registers. But I don’t even look at her. I’m too damn intent on putting my brother in his place.
“What the hell is your problem?” Andrew demands as he scrambles to his feet, holding his nose. “Is your brain still scrambled, you dumb mute?”
Maybe the barb would have stung once upon a time, but I have a bigger mission in life now. It’s to protect and love my girl.
Yeah, Cadence is mine and as soon as the realization blooms in my chest, I know it’s the truth. Summoning all of my focus, I manage to growl a single word at him, “Mine.”
He makes a sound that might be a chuckle. It’s hard to tell around all the blood that’s leaking onto his tuxedo and the way he’s cradling his nose. “Wait. You want lardo?”
I nod at him. Growing up, he’d never give me what I wanted. We were always in fierce competition and even though he was older than me, I was still the favored son. He might not want to give me her, but it doesn’t matter. Because I will keep fighting him until he surrenders her.
“Oh, this is too good. The whale and the idiot.” His voice has taken on a nasally quality and he has to stop to shove tissue up his nostrils.
Under his eyes are already turning purple. He’ll have the best surgeon in town reset the damn thing within an hour. The only thing I truly hurt was his pride. “Tell you what, little bro. You can have her. But you handle mom and dad.”
My parents may not admit it but they’ll both be relieved to marry Cadence off to me. They’ll still get what they want while being able to use Andrew in another of their schemes. They’ll probably marry him off to a rich heiress that he can make miserable for a few years before she gets the good sense to divorce him.
“Jeremy, call my surgeon then get me a clean shirt,” he demands of his assistant. The man is supposed to be his friend, but you wouldn’t know that by the way Andrew talks to him.
He turns toward the side door, the one that will let him escape like the rat he is. “You and tubby have fun making little piglets.”
I growl and step toward him. All it takes is that one move and he’s scurrying away. Sounds like he’s laughing under his breath. But I don’t care.
I just laid claim to my bride. Now all I have to do is convince her to walk down the aisle with me instead.
My knuckles throb, already bruising. There are ways to throw a punch and protect the knuckles, but I didn’t do that.
I wanted the punches that would inflict the most pain possible on my brother. Even now I want to run after him. I want to demolish him until he’s nothing more than a stain on the asphalt next to the dumpster outside.
I turn to Cadence, content now that I know she’s safe from my brother’s barbs. It doesn’t matter whether it’s physical or verbal, I’ll always be the man who defends her.
It takes a superhuman level of concentration to ground out the words, “Marry. Me.”