The Devil Wears Black

There he was. The man I’d fallen in love with, against all odds. And reason. And . . . no point in denying it—logic. We needed to wrap it up, I knew, even though I didn’t want this moment to end.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re giving in to my terms,” I said softly. “We could wait if you want.”

“Give in to your terms?” He frowned, looking positively aghast. “I’m not doing this to please you, Madison. I’m doing this to please us. You bring me joy. Showering you with gifts and love and orgasms makes me happier.”

I heard Ethan groan, Layla squeak, and Sven sigh dreamily. I bit down on my lower lip to suppress a giggle.

“Then yes,” I said. “Yes, I will marry you, Chase Black.”

I was going to throw my arms over his shoulders, the way I’d always imagined I’d do. Like in the movies. But he picked me up honeymoon-style and kicked the door open. The assistant almost flew backward from the impact. He ran the length of the hallway while I giggled, burying my face in his chest, inhaling his singular scent. Minutes later, he burst onto the runway with me in his arms, my legs kicking playfully in my ball gown. Croquis’s sign was behind us, glowing in neon lights.

Projectors pointed at us. Rows upon rows of stern-looking fashion journalists, celebrities, media personalities, and other designers eyeing us. Cameras clicked. People whistled, laughed, and clapped.

And Chase? He grinned at everyone, at everything, with that devil-may-care smile that could melt me into a puddle.

“My name is Chase Black, and I’m the CEO of Black & Co. Want to see my favorite bridal creation for this season?” he asked, putting me down gently. The dress swelled at the bottom, and I felt everyone’s eyes scorching a path down my body as people took in the dress. “She’s it.”

EPILOGUE

CHASE

Six months later

Dear Chase,

When we were in the Hamptons, and you were busy bickering with Julian, and your mother, your sister, Amber, and Clemmy were busy shopping downtown, Maddie approached me in the library. I considered it a bold move, seeing as we were complete strangers, and I was, essentially, her boss.

Madison explained her mother wrote letters to her throughout her journey fighting cancer, to immortalize her feelings toward her daughter long after she herself was gone. Naturally, I was interested. I asked Madison if she could email me copies of those letters. She said she could. I spent many nights reading Iris Goldbloom’s letters to her daughter. She was, I suspect, a fine woman.

I have tried to write many letters to you, Julian, Kate, and Clementine. But in truth, expressing my feelings in words has never been my forte. I suppose I am more of a show-don’t-tell type of man. Until today. I finally found something worth writing to you. Something that wouldn’t feel mundane or utterly dull.

Today, I found out that your relationship with Madison was a sham. That you did it, in part, to pacify me. The fact that you went to such great lengths to ensure my peace of mind touches me.

I love you.

I am proud of you.

And your engagement to Maddie? While I suppose you thought it had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you, I knew, the day I saw your eyes light up in the Hamptons when she showed up for that late dinner, that she was the one.

Treat her well. Take care of your mother. Protect your sister. Help raise your niece.

Oh, and try not to kill your brother.

Love,

Dad

I tucked Dad’s letter into my breast pocket, before tightening my bow tie in front of the mirror in the small-ass bedroom with the dated yellow wallpaper. I looked sharp in a Black & Co. black suit.

“You know what stuns me the most?” Grant asked beside me, running a hand over his hair. Of course my best man wanted to look good in front of the maid of honor, a.k.a. Layla. He still hadn’t gotten over being rejected. I doubted it was even in his vocabulary.

“My wicked good looks?” I asked wryly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Julian shake his head, ducking down and adjusting Clementine’s floral crown. She was the flower girl, and what a flower girl she was. Mad had designed a dress especially for her, after much consultation and fuss that suggested Clementine would be the one making the vows today. “Fools,” Julian muttered with a smile on his face. “Never get married, Clemmy.”

“Oh, but I want to, Daddy.” Her eyes widened. “With Chase.”

Grant chuckled, turning back to me. “What stuns me is that Maddie still chose to marry you, even though she knows what kind of a cocky, arrogant, bas—” Grant was about to finish his sentence, but Booger Face’s head flew up, and she stared at him expectantly. She had been dying for someone to screw up and roll a five-dollar bill into her potty-word jar. She was counting on new Barbie bicycles for Christmas.