In the backyard of Cole and Danielle DeMarco’s mansion, Rachel dabbed a tissue at her eyes. The gazebo had been a beautiful location for Cole and Danielle to repeat their marriage vows and for the performance of the collaring ceremony. It didn’t matter that this was Cole and Danielle’s second wedding, the last one done privately out of state. She was so happy for her friends, who were expecting the birth of their first child in two months.

“You’re crying,” Logan said, surprise in his voice. His arm snaked around her, pulling her to him, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

She sniffed. “I always cry at weddings.”

He raised a brow. “You didn’t cry at ours.”

“That’s because we had two crazed FBI agents on our tails.”

As everyone followed the bride and groom away from the gazebo and headed toward the reception just a few feet away, Logan dipped his head down to speak softly into Rachel’s ear. “So, do you think you might want to do it again, like Danielle and Cole, in front of our families and friends?”

It had shocked the hell out of them when they’d discovered Jane had actually filed their marriage license.

She thought of herself dressed in white, a veil in her hair, with Danielle, Kate, and Lisa beside her as the bridesmaids. That was someone else’s dream. Not hers. Just because she’d learned to balance love and friendship with her career didn’t mean she’d suddenly become a different person. She’d never wanted the traditional wedding. And that hadn’t changed.

“Honestly?” She took his hand and squeezed it, bumping her shoulder into him. “Our wedding was perfect. There’s no point in trying to top it.”

A grin lit up his face. “How ’bout I top you right now?”

She winked. “Ah, you know just how to sweet-talk me.”

Lisa had done a beautiful job at organizing this wedding for Danielle and Cole. Long tables were adorned by silver silk and tall vases of white flowers that had been dipped in silver sparkles. The orchestra continued to play, switching from classical to more modern love ballads. Lights had been strung above the tables and dance floor to illuminate the party when the sun set. And the heavenly scent of garlic and tomatoes from the Italian dinner menu made Rachel’s mouth water.

Cole’s parents chatted animatedly with Danielle’s stepbrother, Roman, and Rachel’s friend Gracie. Some guests had gone into Benediction to play before dinner, but most had remained outside to mingle with other guests and drink champagne. It was strange to witness the vanilla and the kink communities interact with one another as the two worlds collided here at the wedding.

“You’ve been working so hard on your story,” Logan said, snatching a glass of champagne for her off a waiter’s tray and handing it to her.

She took a sip of champagne. “I’ll never complain about my family again. How could our country have been run by sociopaths as presidents?”

Along with the financial records that Hutton had kept on his computer, tying him and Byron to the PAC that had paid off Fink, Evans, and Rinaldi, Maxwell Hutton had kept journals that read like an autobiography, chronicling his rise to power. The entries told the tale of a boy trying to understand how a benevolent God could allow such horrors to be inflicted upon a child. Rachel had vomited more than once as she read the atrocities he’d endured from such a young age. He’d been raised by a family of real-life monsters whom the country lauded as modern-day royalty, believing themselves to be the only real blue-blooded Americans. There had been no wonder that his parents had created a new generation of monsters in his brother and him.

When Maxwell Hutton had become a grown man, he’d exchanged one set of monsters for another. Byron and he had begun their affair more than ten years earlier after Byron discovered Hutton’s penchant for extreme pain and torture.

Senators Hutton and Byron believed that between them, they could take the White House for the next sixteen years and, during that time, eliminate every race but their own. It was white supremacy at its worst. The American people had been horrified to learn that the men they had believed were American heroes were actually the villains they needed protection from.

The journals contained details of how the Hutton family had blackmailed politicians, foreign officials, judges, and others for more than fifty years. Many of those who had broken the law for the Huttons were arrested, but in their interviews with Rachel, several had thanked her for ending the Huttons’ reign of terror and for allowing those blackmailed to ease their guilty consciences.

Of course, not all were thrilled with having their dirty laundry aired to the public. Two of the men under investigation had killed themselves, and she’d received more than five death threats, all which the FBI had traced back to various individuals whom Rachel had exposed through her investigation.

Logan worried constantly, but he hadn’t prevented her from doing her job.

It had all been worth it.

Logan squeezed her hand as they searched for their assigned table. “I don’t think I say it enough. I’m very proud of you.”

Since they’d decided to remain married and had moved in together, buying a small house together with a fenced-in yard for their new dog, Barbara, in a quiet suburb of Detroit, he’d supported her career 100 percent. They were still working on how to balance their lives, and they still battled for control sometimes, but as in any healthy relationship, they compromised.

“The story isn’t done,” she said, her mind running away with her. “I think if I dig deeper, I’ll probably uncover some suicides and accidental deaths of prominent people were actually murders ordered by the Huttons.”

He clinked his champagne glass against hers. “I’m sure you will, Tiger. But do you think you could take a couple weeks off before you jump back into your busy workdays? We never did get to take a honeymoon.”

A honeymoon sounded wonderful. As an adult, she’d never taken a vacation. “Where were you thinking?”

“Uncle Joe invited us to his new house down in the Everglades.”

Joe had spent a few days in FBI custody, but once she and Logan had been exonerated, the charges against Joe had been dropped. Discovering he’d never truly been living off the grid had come as a shock to him, but he admitted he was enjoying the ability to try out some of the online dating websites.

She walked her fingers down Logan’s chest. “Maybe we could stop by and spend a couple days with him before we go on a trip to Italy? I hear Tuscany is beautiful this time of year.”

“I think that could be arranged.” He wrapped his hand around her nape and pulled her in for a kiss, his mouth tasting of champagne and her, that particular flavor lingering from earlier in the evening when Logan had decided to make an appetizer out of her pussy.

She smiled as their lips parted and looked around the party. “Have you heard from Sawyer yet? I thought he’d be here by now.”

Logan glanced at his watch. “He was running late. I gave him directions and gave security a heads-up to allow him through the gate.” He pointed at a man strolling toward them. “Speak of the devil—”

“Hey, man.” Logan shook Sawyer’s hand. “Glad you could make it.”

Sawyer gave her a quick hug. “Sorry I missed the wedding.” At the raise of her brow, he changed his tune. “Okay, sorry I’m not sorry. Weddings bore me. But as you know, I’ve been dying to check out Benediction, and since I had a meeting in Detroit, this seemed like the perfect night.”

“I’m sure I could find a sub for you if you’re looking to scene,” Logan offered.

Sawyer scanned the party. “Oh, I’m looking for someone in particular.” He froze for a moment before pointing at Lisa. “Her.”

“Lisa? Do you want me to introduce you?” she asked, recalling he’d asked about her in Las Vegas.