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small and mine are completely different.” She looks around the room again, her eyes wide as she drinks in everyone and everything. The majority of the guests are around Dad’s age and filthy-ass rich. There are no other words for it. I see diamonds everywhere. Twinkling around women’s necks, flashing off their fingers, glinting off their wrists. They’re all perfectly manicured and groomed within an inch of their life, Botoxed and plucked and smoothed and fake tanned.
    There are a few younger women here who I recognize. Daughters of Dad’s associates, girls I went to school with. They’re all perfectly groomed and manicured, too, much like the lawns that line the streets outside.
    If I hadn’t met Fable, I would have ended up married to one of these women, I can almost guarantee it—some perfectly behaved girl who would’ve pleased Dad. Our marriage would have been a merger of sorts. Two powerful families brought together, a lucrative deal for both sides. A victory comprised of wealth.
    Instead, I made Fable Dad’s new daughter-in-law, and while he acts as if he likes her, I wonder sometimes. I know she doesn’t always approve of what he does or says.
    I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Dad is all smooth polish, while Fable is still a bit rough around the edges.
    “Is all the food free here?” Speaking of rough edges, Owen stops at my side, his green eyes wide as he looks around the patio. “I’m fucking starving.”
    “Owen, I will kill you where you stand if you say that word again out here,” Fable says between clenched teeth, her eyes narrowed, her fingers squeezing mine tight. I can’t blame her for being angry; we’re trying to make a good impression here, especially her.
    Sending Fable a look, I reach out and pat Owen on the shoulder, though he doesn’t seemfazed by his sister’s chastising words in the least. “Of course it’s free,” I reassure him. “My dad’s having the party for us. Celebrating our marriage, and sort of a welcome-to-the-family thing for you and Fable.”
    Owen’s face brightens. “Sweet. I need to tell your dad thanks. But first, I gotta go grab something to eat.” Without another word, he takes off, making his way toward one of the waiters walking around with a silver tray laden with appetizers. Owen is wearing black pants that we just had to buy him since he won’t stop growing and a white button-down shirt. He borrowed one of my ties and his hair is semi-tame for once. Trying to be a grownup but sort of failing at it.
    My heart expands and I breathe deep, ignoring the little twist in my chest. I feel responsible for that kid, like he’s my own brother. I love him. Almost as much as I love his sister.
    “We need to watch him,” Fable mumbles, shaking her head as she keeps her gaze glued to his retreating back. “He’ll probably try and snag glasses of champagne when we’re not looking in the hopes he can get drunk.”
    No harm done in a little sneak of champagne, I want to tell her, but who am I to advocate drinking to her underage brother? Hell, look at their mother. She’s a drunken, drug-taking bitch who tried to convince Owen to run away with her a few months before we were married. And Owen almost went with her—he wasn’t going to tell us she contacted him until he got nervous and confessed all to his sister. Fable had been furious.
    And also scared shitless.
    “Don’t worry about Owen. I’ll watch him.” I pull Fable into me and she tilts her face up so I can drop a light kiss on her pursed lips. “You relax and try to have a good time.”
    “Right.” She leans her head back the slightest bit so I can drink from her lips yet again. Yeah, need to get myself under control here. This isn’t the time or the place. “This house and these people intimidate the crap out of me, Drew. How am I supposed to act? What am I supposed to say?”
    “Just be yourself,” I say, squeezing her shoulders.
    She rolls her eyes. “Your dad doesn’t much