Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

I chuckle, grabbing her hand while pulling open the door. “That’s all for the finale.” When we break back into the main area, the crowd has thinned tremendously. I find Bishop and Nate near the corner with Tillie, Madison, Tate, Spyder, and Saint’s two friends, Ophelia and Ivy, beside them. I trust my people with Saint. Never an outsider. But something about the way Ophelia guards her makes me feel at ease. Maybe one day I’ll trust her and Ivy.

Maybe not.

Madison is smirking at Saint, and Tillie has one raised eyebrow. Hector is talking on the stage, everyone watching him carefully. Good. Because it keeps eyes off us.

“Oh, so you just couldn’t wait…” Bishop clucks his tongue as we approach.

Saint rubs her thumb over her ring. “Was no one going to tell me until the last damn minute?” She growls, reminding me of a cute little pussycat, before her fist is flying into Bishop’s arm. It’s scary how much the two of them slipped so effortlessly into the brother-sister dynamic. “A heads-up would have been lovely.”

Tillie grabs her by the arm. “Let’s fix your makeup and I’ll fill you in.” All of the girls disappear to the bathroom, and the three of us don’t stop watching until they’re through the doors. I search Benny out and nod at him; he blows me a kiss as he moves to the front of the ladies’ bathroom. Benny and I have become closer since Saint has been gone. Before, I pushed many of my family members away because I didn’t trust them around Saint. Their intentions. You should never trust a Vitiosis. But Benny, though he and Nate are a walking fucking UFC fight waiting to go down, is loyal. He has become closer to our circle since Bishop took the gavel. It’s good. He’s going to be one of our stronger outside allies.

“Did you tell her everything?” Bishop asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

I shake my head, snatching a glass of bourbon from a tray as a waiter passes us. “No. Have you both told Tillie and Mad?”

They both take a sip of their drinks before Nate answers, “No.” He cracks his neck. “At least we will all be in the doghouse together and they won’t find out until we’re up there. That way, they won’t cause a scene.”

“Eh,” I argue. “Pretty sure your girl doesn’t give a flying fuck about an audience.” Nate’s face pales.

“Actually,” Bishop murmurs, and we both turn to face him. “I told Madison a little bit. Just enough to warm them up before, but not the whole truth.”

Nate sighs. “My balls just ran away.”

Saint

I never thought much about my wedding day. I’d watch them on TV and think they were a waste of time. Why not skip all of the trouble and just sign the paper? If it really was only about love, why did you need to spend thousands to prove it?

“Your makeup is fine,” Tillie says, dabbing a powder brush into her compact. “That motherfucker made you cry. I need to fuck him up.”

Ophelia chuckles from the toilet stall where she’s taking care of business—with the door open. Have we all just bonded that quickly that it’s almost too natural now? “I got your back.”

“Well, I don’t!” Madison says, her hands flying around the place. She turns to face the mirror, running her finger over her lips to correct her lipstick. “He still scares me.”

Tate slides up onto the bathroom counter, her legs dangling off. “Once upon a time, we’d all be snorting lines of coke off this impeccable marble.” She runs her hand over it. “How times have changed.”

Madison chuckles. “Just, and thankfully.” I’m glad I missed that era.

“So, do we know why we’re getting married tonight?” I ask, opening my clutch and pulling out my lipstick.

Madison places her hand on top of the counter, sighing. A long finger taps against it and I feel like I’m holding my breath waiting for her to answer. “I don’t know why tonight, but I know this world enough to know there’s a reason. I will say this—we have to be a united front. Our circle has to be impenetrable. A girlfriend is a liability and weakness. But a wife? A wife is a weapon in this world. A wife is unfuckwithable. A wife in The Elite Kings’ world is a damn queen. There’s a level of respect that comes from being the wife of a King all on its own.” We all stay silent for a while, because what she just said made some sense.

“I guess I’m still learning,” I say truthfully, opening my bag. Ivy shuffles on her feet in the corner, watching us all attentively.

Ophelia places her hands under the faucet, her eyes on mine in the mirror. “I just have to say something.” She turns, drying them with paper towel. “Whenever one of us would fall out of line, Veronica would lock us in our rooms and wouldn’t let us out until we’d fasted all of our sins out. My worry with this, is that she’s going to punish, well, the rest of us.”