“Rae.”
“Collins.” I eye him as he and Donley move toward the men in their seats, shaking hands with each of them, both eyes focusing on the empty chair for a moment longer than necessary.
Mine tighten, cutting across the room once more.
Five families, five chairs, only four taken by the men before me.
My stare slides to Rolland and his pinches in warning.
A laugh leaves me before I can help it and suddenly all eyes are on me.
One of the men in a suit sits forward, his elbows on his knees.
“You look much like your mother.”
“I take offense to that,” I reply instantly.
I think I catch him off guard as he laughs lightly.
“I see you’re much more outspoken than her.”
“Let’s not with the unnecessary banter. I’m here for a reason.”
“Indeed, you are.” The man grins, his eyes moving to Rolland. “I assume she’s aware of all she needs to be?”
Rolland opens his mouth to speak but I step forward.
“You people may like to pretend women are weak and have no voices, but I’m not and I say what I want. I can speak for myself.” I stare the man right in the eye, enjoying the way his tighten in surprise.
“I see.” He sits back, looking to the others a moment before moving back to me. “Ms. Brayshaw, I’m Calvin Greyson.”
I blink at him.
He fights a grin. He can’t be more than twenty-five, if that. “We’re simply here as witnesses. Your town is your town, your issues with the Graven family are your issues. That being said, a town divided cannot sit on the council with us. That is the purpose of the union that was promised before your time. In order for us to be a strong unit, we need to be just that, a unit. A town divided is weak. It was agreed upon that should Brayshaw openly accept the marriage to Graven, the Gravens would see it as a move of good faith, and the Brayshaws would take final lead.” He turns to Donley. “This is correct, Donley?”
“It is.” He moves his eyes to mine. Nothing but victory swimming in them. “She marries in, unites our families once and for all, we no longer push for power in lead as our strength will come in time.”
“Raven.”
My eyes slide back to the tattooed guy.
He confirms who he is in his introduction. “I’m Trick Rivera. You understand what they’re saying, right?” He eyes me. “You must accept the marriage.”
Donley scoffs beside me and Trick’s eyes darken as they slide his way, a fierce expression in place.
“I promise you, I only ever do what I want,” I tell him. “Something Collins is well aware of, so maybe it’s he who should accept me, the bitch of a bride he’ll be getting.”
Small chuckles float across the room.
“In a heartbeat, Rae.” Collins pushes his chest out, not bothering to look my way.
I bite into my cheek.
“Actually,” Donley draws out, his smirk as revolting as his presence. “I threw that little clause in a long time ago, and it earned me a runaway bride. I don’t wish to extend this to Raven, especially since Collins will already be marrying an impure bride when we were promised a virgin. Contract says she’s mine regardless, though...” He trails off, his eyes meeting mine, knowing. “I don’t imagine we’ll be forcing anyone’s hands today.”
Piece of shit.
The man who looks the eldest of them all, studies me curiously. “Ms. Brayshaw, I’m Romero Hacienda of Hacienda Heights. Welcome home.”
I nod, having no words for the stranger.
“Regardless of Donley’s show of power he does not have,” the man remarks. “If you would, please make the announcement you gathered us here for today, so we can be on our way.”
“Be sure to state your name first,” Trick offers with a small nod.
“I’m Raven Brayshaw,” I say with zero hesitation, a numb body, and shattering heart. “And I acknowledge the union between families.”
“You wish to marry Collins Graven?”
I look to Collins who stares at me with open, honest eyes. An apology shines in them, regret and hope all rolled into one.
He truly wants this?
“I’ll be good to you, I swear it,” he says directly, in front of everyone as if it’s just the two of us standing here.
Brave of the bastard.
I face forward. “Yes.”
Not a second after Donley’s single clap, the air shifts.
I don’t have to look to know who is coming, my boys’ footsteps vibrate the floor beneath us.
My eyes slice to Rolland’s, witnessing the strain that takes over in an instant.
“This will be tough, Raven,” he whispers quickly. “I’m so sorry.”
With a deep breath, I spin, my heart dropping to my feet at the sight of the boys.
I fight the urge to go to them, to swallow the anger radiating off every inch of Maddoc, to burn the unknown swimming in his eyes, in all their eyes.