“You’re disgusting!” Rose shouts with another scream attached.
I glance over my shoulder to see Ryke on his feet, restraining Rose from the other two guys by grabbing her shoulders.
My head just rattles as Scott keeps talking. As he spills all the things he planted with production.
“Lily and Lo in the bathroom with the slurping audio?” Connor asks.
“Edited,” Scott says. “We did it in advance and uploaded it on the camera for you to find.” At least everyone will believe us now.
“The alcohol in Lo’s closet?”
“Planted. Savannah and Ben put it there when Lily was taking a nap. They were supposed to install a camera too, but they ran out of time.”
How many bullets did we actually dodge this time around?
I can’t get off the couch to help them or to shout another expletive. Ryke has said them all anyway. I’ve known what everyone is just finding out. In fact, I’ve known for a while that production was behind all of this shit. I guess they couldn’t one-hundred percent believe in that truth because they had other options to consider. Like us. Lily and I—we could have lied to them.
“I’m going to let Ryke go if you don’t get out of this house,” I hear Connor tell Scott. “And his fists are going to hurt a hell of a lot more than mine. So take what’s on your back and leave.”
Not long after, the door slams shut.
I can only hope that’s the last cancer in our lives, but my dad would tell me that I’m being a little f**king fool. For believing in that impossibility. When you have money like we do, there will always be people ready to bury you for a payout.
It’s how the world turns.
37
0 years : 10 months
June
LILY CALLOWAY
Connor never once hesitated, not even for a moment did he second guess his plan, which is on a grand, massive scale. Even with the sex tape and a lawsuit being flung in Scott’s face, Connor said, “There is no better time than today.”
Both Lo and I strongly disagreed. Rose was going to claw his face the minute we did the wedding switcheroo.
I think my doubt vanished about the same time I stepped into the “Château de Fontainebleau”—a French palace fit for a queen.
Every single detail resembles my older sister. The simple pale pink bridesmaids gowns, like ballet dresses. The hundreds of attendees, showering her with compliments. The lavish antiquity of it all. Diamonds, roses, red velvet cake and classical music.
It’s a dream wedding that she never dreamed of until now.
I couldn’t be happier for her, especially since she said yes.
I stand beside Lo in a grand ballroom that resembles a royal castle in a history book. Paintings engulf every wall with gold ornate frames. The ceiling is just as fancy, and a row of chandeliers twinkles overhead. Giant red rose bouquets line the room, classy and elegant like my sister.
Ryke comes up beside his brother while clusters of people enter the ballroom after dinner, a stage setup with violinists, cellists and a pianist.
“When you two get married, should I be prepared for something like this?” Ryke asks us. He downs a champagne flute filled with water in two seconds and a server collects it before he even turns around.
“No way,” Lo says. “There will be a finite number of people.”
“And no press,” I add. Connor let the media squeeze through the doors so they could blog about the event. He said something about needing “good” publicity for Fizzle and Cobalt Inc.
“Exactly.” Lo gives his brother a half-smile before putting his arm around my shoulder. I lean closer to his body, waiting for Rose and Connor to take to the empty floor space for their first dance as husband and wife.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” Ryke says, “but are you going to set a date for it?”
Lo and I haven’t really talked about it. We got engaged because our parents ordered us to, and they also said we had to be married today. And then when all of that changed, the timeline kind of dematerialized with it.
“No,” Lo answers. “We’re going to wait until the media dies down.”
Ryke’s jaw hardens and he nods a couple times. “And if that doesn’t f**king happen? What then?” I don’t like his tone one bit. Like he believes it won’t ever come true. I just hate thinking that this could be our new normal. The frenzied cameras, the invasiveness, the never-ending questions and rumors. The reality show is over so everything should return to the way it was, right?
Lo’s cheekbones jut out a little more than usual, irritated. He licks his lips and shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe you should worry about your own future wife. Oh wait, she doesn’t exist.”
Ryke raises his hands in defense. “Hint f**king taken. I’ll stay out of it.”
Lo lets out a short laugh. “When have you stayed out of anyone’s business?”
He nods. “Good point.”
“Shhh,” I whisper, swatting Lo’s arm. The violins have shushed, and Connor saunters into the open space. When he stops in the center, his deep blue eyes lock straight on Rose.
I am full-blown smiling. The way he’s staring at her—it’s beyond magical.
“I just want everyone to know,” I whisper again, “that I predicted this would happen the moment I saw them together.”
Both Lo and Ryke clap for me at the same time, mostly in sarcasm. Yeah, yeah, they can team up against me, but I was right. It doesn’t happen often, so I pocket that small glory.
Connor holds out his hand, and Rose approaches with a narrowed, passionate gaze. She takes his hand in hers. She’s still in her white wedding dress with sheer material around her collarbones. A high slit runs up her leg, but the tulle netting flows around her limbs so much that you can hardly tell until she walks. Sexy and classy.
She designed that dress, sewed it together for me, but it’s her style and something she loved with each last thread. Daisy stole the gown to have the bust altered to match the measurements of Rose’s bridesmaid’s dress. It fit her perfectly.
They wait for the music to start, questions flickering in Rose’s gaze about Connor’s song choice. The moment the instruments create a sweet, silky noise, Rose’s hand flies to her mouth. And her eyes begin to glass.
Connor pulls her closer to his chest, his grin so bright. Her hands tremble. Both have now risen to her lips that part with unrestrained surprise. She shakes her head, and I start crying as soon as rare happy tears stream down her cheeks. French lyrics leave the singer’s mouth like honey.
The music is gorgeous, even if I can’t understand a single word.
“What song is this?” I murmur, wiping my eyes quickly.
“No clue,” Lo says, the corners of his mouth lifting the longer he watches Connor and Rose in the center of the room. There aren’t many dry eyes around here.
Connor kisses Rose’s forehead and I read his lips: I love you.
I bite my gums to stop the waterworks from beginning all over again. Every moment of Rose’s wedding has been a surprise, and with each one, I think that we’ve all realized how well Connor knows her and how much he truly, truly loves her.
“La Vie En Rose,” Ryke suddenly says with a French lilt.
“What?” My brows pinch together.
“The song,” he says, “it’s called La Vie En Rose.”
“How do you know that…?” I ask, my voice trailing off, distracted for a second by my sister. Rose calms after the initial overwhelming shock of the song choice. And they begin to slow dance together.