Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Luce reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “I’m so sorry,” she tells me. “I tried to stop it. We both did but there’s nothing I could do. Lucien came to me yesterday and warned that if I said anything during the ceremony or tried to screw things up, he was going to hurt my mom and dad, and I just…”
“Hey,” I say as her eyes begin to fill with tears. “Stop. This is on me. I don’t want you trying to involve yourself or trying to save me. I would never forgive myself if you or your family was to get hurt because of this.”
“But…”
“No. This is my fight, all I need you to do is be waiting on the other side when I finally get out of this mess.”
“You know I will be.”
I nod. “I don’t doubt you for one second.”
Luce gives me a warm smile before her eyes start flicking around the room. “I, um…kind of have something for you,” she says lowering her voice. “I just don’t know how to give it to you without causing some kind of shootout.”
My brows furrow as I watch her, checking the positions of all the guards around. “What are you talking about?”
A sly grin spreads across her face. “Slade kind of strapped your dad’s knife to my thigh as a plan B. You know, just in case he couldn’t get you out of the church. He wanted you to have something to help you from the inside while we’re trying on the outside.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “You have my knife?”
She nods. “Yeah, it makes me feel like some kind of badass assassin. I love it, but I don’t know how to get it to you without looking too obvious. I mean, just having it strapped there is about as far as my assassin skills go.”
I hold back a laugh, trying not to draw any extra attention to us, as let’s face it. I really want that knife. In fact, I don’t just want it, I need it.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I have a plan but you’re not going to like it and you’ll most likely get yourself kicked out.”
“Seriously?” she grins. “I tackled the groom to the ground and my daddy punched him yet we’re still here. Trust me, I could burn this place to the ground and still be offered desert.”
“Good point,” I laugh, shaking my head. This is all Maria. Lucien and Marcus would have thrown them out but seeing an empty space at a table would have driven Maria to insanity. “So, I’m going to need you to start gagging and then pretend to throw up in the ice bucket under the table.”
“What?” she shrieks, horrified.
“If you’re throwing up under the table, your hands will be able to do whatever they want.”
Understanding crosses her features and not a second later her bottom lip pouts out and her hand falls to her stomach. “Shit, Sky. I don’t feel too good. I think the crab was bad.”
A few people at close tables start looking at Luce in disgust while others begin pushing their plates away. Her hand goes to her mouth as her eyes bug out. “Oh, no,” she gasps, reaching for the wine bucket. She grabs the wine and hastily drops it on the table before emptying the ice out, making sure to create the biggest mess possible.
Ice spills over the edge of the table and slides far and wide over the dance floor. Water drenches the table cloth and destroys Maria’s precious table setting. I hold back from howling with laughter, even more so when the mess has my glass of red wine spilling all over my dress.
Luce’s head falls under the table as people start rushing in to help fix the situation. “Make it quick. We only have a few seconds,” I tell her under my breath, acting horrified by the red wine on my dress and the hurling girl beside me.
Maria screams blue murder and runs.
I hastily start making a show of cleaning up the table while all sorts of disgusting noises come from Luce under it. I feel her hand slip under my dress but with so much material to get through, she ends up strapping the knife to my ankle and making all sorts of relief settle my racing heart.
Luckily everyone remains on the opposite side of the table, reaching over to help me clean up as Luce straightens in her seat, putting on a great sick act.
She steals a napkin and puts on a show of wiping her face before dumping it in the empty ice bucket to cover the fact that there’s absolutely nothing in it.
Luce’s mom comes shuffling in, looking embarrassed by the mess. “Oh, honey,” she says, grabbing Luce’s arm and pulling her to her feet. “You look dreadful. Are you alright?”