Chapter 3

Emmitt's bachelor party was pretty extravagant.

He chose the most expensive club in town, and his friends were flooding Twitter with endless photos and videos.

In one clip, Emmitt was surrounded by a crowd, raising his drink. His face flushed as he shouted, "To hell with marriage! Tonight, I'm not going home sober."

The music pounded, and lights flashed. Young men and women pressed together. The entire scene was electric, brimming with youthful energy and temptation.

I was scrolling through the videos when a perfectly sliced steak appeared on my plate.

"Don't waste your time on that junk. It will ruin your appetite," Greyson said.

His voice came from right above me.

I looked up, smiled at him, and took a bite of the steak.

We were in a rooftop revolving restaurant, reserved three months in advance. The city lights sparkled outside, and our table was set with the finest dishes and deep red wine.

It felt like I was living in two entirely separate worlds. The wild, chaotic energy on my phone contrasted with the calm, refined elegance in front of me.

"Do you think he has accepted the truth now?" I asked, swirling my wine with amusement.

Greyson refilled my glass and said dryly, "He is probably still processing it."

I cracked up at his comment.

"Are we kind of messing with him?" I asked.

"He brought this on himself," Greyson replied, slicing his steak with effortless precision. "I've long told him to stay away from you."

That was true.

As soon as Greyson got back from abroad, he immediately caught on to Emmitt's little schemes. He called Emmitt into the study and closed the door. Then they talked for a full hour.

I had no idea what happened in there, but when Emmitt finally emerged, he looked as pale as a ghost. For days afterward, he acted meek and avoided me whenever our paths crossed.

I honestly thought he had finally given up.

But then, at my best friend's wedding, he somehow found himself back in the spotlight.

We were almost finished with dinner when Greyson's phone rang.

It was Ruth calling.

"Greyson, you need to check Twitter right now. That brat is out there causing trouble again, calling it a 'bachelor party.' He's going to drive me crazy!" Ruth sounded on the verge of losing her mind.

Greyson tried to calm her. "Mom, don't stress. He is wasted and talking nonsense. I've already put my assistant on it."

"On it? What, are you planning to tie him up and drag him home?" Ruth snapped.

"No need for that," Greyson said, giving me a sly look as I scrolled through my phone. "Let him party and make it as wild as he wants. I'll make sure to capture all his 'epic moments' and send them straight to Grandpa."

Ruth immediately caught on and laughed. "You really are a genius. Fine, let's do it your way."

After he hung up, I asked, "Why send them to your grandpa?"

Greyson took a slow sip of his wine. "Grandpa cut off his card for six months last month, saying he was a disgrace to the family with bad behavior. If he sees these photos, I bet he'll be delighted to extend the punishment."

I burst out laughing.

Greyson was the real scheming one here.

I could only wish Emmitt good luck.

*****

As expected, the next morning, Emmitt's cries echoed throughout the Sweeney residence.

"What? My card got cut off again? For an entire year? Seriously, why?" he roared.

Ruth and I were sitting in the living room, sipping our morning coffee and sorting through wedding favors.

Hearing the commotion upstairs, Ruth didn't even flinch. She calmly said to the butler, "Omari, go tell Emmitt to keep it down. He is disturbing Lucille and me."

Omari nodded and headed upstairs.

Before long, Emmitt's loud wailing softened into muffled sobs.

I picked up a chocolate, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth. The sweetness melted on my tongue.

"Ruth, are we being too harsh?" I asked, pretending to feel guilty.

Ruth shot me a look, all charm and sass. "Don't act innocent with me, you little fox. Greyson's expression says it all. You know exactly what he's up to."

I stuck my tongue out at her.

Ruth sighed and took my hand. "Lucille, we really owe you an apology. If we had known Emmitt was such a jerk, we never would have put you through all that nonsense."

"Ruth, really, don't say that," I said, squeezing her hand gently. "It's all in the past now."

Yeah, it was all in the past now.

Our marriage had been arranged by the families ages ago. Back then, Greyson and I were both too young and not interested in the whole family business deal, so we kept putting it off.

Everything changed a year ago, when Greyson and I ran into each other at a corporate event.