Chapter 16

I was just about to step away when I felt a quick tug on my arm. Turning around, I saw my mom drilling into me with those familiar, unwavering eyes as she shook her head from side to side. “Don’t do it,” she muttered, voice low and urgent. “It’s your wedding party. You can’t let Lyra see you in a confrontation with them.”

She was right. Since getting married, I’d known certain things would change—but I never imagined how much could shift in just a few months. I inhaled deeply, forcing calm into my chest, then smoothed the crease in my suit jacket and strolled back toward the circle of men in dark suits.

“Alistair!” The poised, dark-haired man at the center spotted me first, his voice carrying easily across the hall. I glanced over; my father, Mr. DeWitt, lifted his hand in a quick wave and excused himself from the group he’d been addressing. As I reached him, he offered a small, tight-smiled nod and fell into step beside me.

I noticed Lorenzo Moretti—one of the men