KAI

I know Crone is extremely nervous. When we were getting ready for the wedding ceremony, there were already signs back in our suite. He fixed his hair and bowtie, took shots of cognac, and checked with the staff so many times that I wouldn’t be surprised if they blocked his number and quit.

Usually it’s women who obsess over wedding preparations. You know who overlooked every detail for this one? You guessed it, Archer Crone. Katura could’ve gotten hitched on a cliff with no one around them if it were up to her. But Crone wanted to make it simple but neat. Simple, my ass, with three hundred people. The motherfucker became a walking joke on Ayana when he asked during one of our all-guys get togethers if anyone knew what the difference was between the White Cloud and White O’Hara roses. Thank God for Margot, Cece, and a number of other people who took over.

Crone is even more jittery now as we stand by the gazebo on the beach, waiting for our brides.

A string orchestra, dressed in white and barefoot, is playing.

Crone won’t shut up. Talking is his stress relief.

“Young men have over thirty DNA mutations a year,” Crone tells me, his topics of conversation in the last hour blending from one to another. Talking calms him. “With radiation, the rate increases dramatically. So the older we get, the more DNA mutations there are in our bodies. Even with the proper medication. Mutation is a natural process. But did you know that women don’t change much? how about that? Barely any mutations. It’s us, guys, who are fucked up. Men have to get an early start on the baby action.”

“Is that an appropriate topic for today?”

“It’s true.”

I haven’t seen Crone so nervous in a while. We both stand in our white suits, hands clasped at our fronts. I can’t wait to see Callie walking down the aisle. I think Crone is paranoid that Kat will change her mind. He’s insane. He needs a distraction.

“For you, Crone, everything is an excuse for fucking,” I say. “I think you might be a sex addict.”

He snorts. “Have you met my wife-to-be?” And he won’t shut up. “My bride is badass. She might have a pistol tucked under her garter.”

I chuckle. “Mine is the prettiest. Blonde, slender, blue eyes, best mouth ever.”

“I reckon you said at Deene that nothing is as effective as your right hand.”

I blurt out a laugh. “Suck a dick, Crone.”

“Oh, I would never take that away from Callie. I’m not into tiny things. Plus, I am more into pussy.”

I grin and drive my elbow into his ribs.

Crone nods at Alex Ortiz. “At least I got lucky with my father-in-law. He is a good guy.”

“Well, I don’t have one. And it’s okay.”

His head snaps in my direction. “Shit, sorry, man.”

“I know. Strange times, huh?”

I wish my dad could be here, and Lilly. I wish I could have met the people who brought up my beautiful girl. But it’s all right. We have a big family here on Zion. I consider us blessed. Many have parents and siblings but still feel lonely. Many go through tragedies without any friends at all.

Crone checks his watch. “What’s the hold-up?”

I roll my eyes. “Bro, relax. Everyone is on time.”

He leans in to murmur, “At least you are in a better way than Raven. Check out his father-in-law.”

I find Tsariuk among the guests, in his white tuxedo and fedora, sunglasses, square jaw that can crack walnuts. Sonny is next to him. Raven, too, holding his twins.

“I swear, this looks surreal, Raven and the babies,” I say. “He says he actually enjoys carrying them around.”

“Maybe Tsariuk makes him at gunpoint.”

I chuckle. “When Maddy complains that she is tired?”

Archer snorts with laughter. “Right? Maybe Raven is learning how to cook borsch , too. God forbid he messes that up. Tsariuk will shoot him in the kneecap.”

I stifle my laughter, but a loud snort breaks out of me. “He can just slit Raven’s throat with his sharp R-r-r-r-ussian accent.”

Tsariuk is by now the local celebrity. There’s no denying that his security team is top notch. For the wedding, there are Apache helicopters on call at the nearby island, which is a tiny military base and the scientific research facility that was preserved from before. There are military powerboats anchored in the international waters nearby. IT monitors the airspace. Besides him, there are dozens of upper echelon people from all over the world here today. Maddy’s cousins flew in, two young cocky Belarusians. “Milena fucking Tsariuk, how are you, doll?” I heard them say during the dinner the other night. They are already assessing Zion as if it’s their new playground.

But what do we say to a man who is actually helping to make Zion an exemplary place? Sure, Tsariuk can bring anyone he wants here.

Suddenly, the orchestra stops playing. There is a commotion between the guests at the end of the aisle, and the orchestra starts playing the wedding song Callie and Kat picked out.

“Oh, shit,” Crone murmurs, his eyes fixed ahead. “This is it, bro. There they are.”

A row of little girls in white angel dresses and flower crowns start walking toward us, throwing plumeria petals in front of them. The aisle is wide enough for several people. And right behind the girls are our brides, Kat and Callie, led by Mr. Ortiz at Kat’s side and Bo at Callie’s. While Kat is wearing a slim strapless designer gown made out of slick silk, Callie’s wedding dress is a simple loose gown with a high waistline. She looks beautiful.

My heart thumps against my chest when I hear another, “Oh, shit,” next to me.

Oh, that’s a precious sight—I stare at Crone. I think Crone is hyperventilating, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Too rapidly as he licks his lips.

“Bro, you okay?”

“I think,” he says as the violin strings cut through my own emotions. He and I, both. His eyes are too glassy.

“You tearing up?” I tease him.

“Shut up.”

“Hey…” Oh, fuck he is. “Crone, look at me.”

He does, widening his eyes so as to suck back tears.

I know why he is like this. He lost his father only recently. And his mom always talked about his bright future. Crone comes across as an asshole, but at heart, he’s a softie, and he told me the other night he wished his mom was alive to see his wedding. Don’t we all?

“Listen. It’s all right,” I tell him. “We have beautiful brides. We are the luckiest guys here. And I’m so fucking lucky to have her and you.”

He exhales through puffed lips. “You are not helping. I’m gonna have a fucking meltdown.”

I chuckle, then wrap my arm around his shoulders. “It’s the best day of our lives. And there are a lot more to come. Look at us.”

“Yeah, four of us. That’s one hell of a wedding.”

“Well, five actually,” I murmur.

Crone’s head snaps in my direction, his eyes widening. “Wait, what?”

I shrug, grinning. “Callie is pregnant.”

His jaw drops. “Holy shit, bro. Congrats!”

“Thanks. But no one knows yet. You are the first.”

“I’d better be first. Damn.”

“When are you gonna get on the baby action?”

He grins. “Soon.”

“So, I one-upped you, huh? Finally.” I elbow him, glad that he is distracted.

We both laugh as we look down the aisle and watch our spectacular women approach.

This is not the end.

This is just the beginning.

Thank you, lovely people, for reading the last book

(or, maybe, not the last)

in RUTHLESS PARADISE series.

I hope you enjoyed the journey!

Please, leave a review.

And stay in touch for the future updates from Lexi Ray.

Cheers!