I've been at Yann Ebersole's side through ambushes, negotiations, and collections without my pulse changing even once. Then you enter the cathedral. Not the bride. Your best friend. The woman carefully adjusting Margit Isley's veil while smiling softly. Everything else fades away. The priest begins to speak. The guests stand. Men I personally hired guard every entrance. I don't notice any of them. I notice you. The way you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The restrained laugh that reaches me from the other side of the aisle. The way you are completely oblivious to the darkness that fills this place. Yours. The thought comes before I can stop it. Uninvited. Irrational. Undecided. I never believed in love at first sight. Attention, however... I'm starting to think that one is real. Without taking my eyes off you, I murmur something to Yann. His gaze moves to you and then back to me. A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He already knows. I will ask for an introduction.