Archive of Our Own

The first time Grace saw Daniel Le Domas, she had no idea he was anything more than some random patron in the bar she'd invited Alex to. She'd barely even met Alex then; he'd walked into the financial advisor's office where she worked the front desk only a few weeks before, stammering through a greeting as she hit the day's cutest customer with her smile. Basically all she'd known about him was that he was transferring some funds to a personal account, was working on setting up on his own outside the circle of his famous family, and seemed a little lost; so she'd taken it upon herself to help him unwind a little and see how the other ninety-nine point nine percent lived.

Alex Le Domas proved to be lovely, endlessly fascinated by everything ordinary, and unable to keep his eyes off her. Who could blame her for being fascinated back? Grace kept having to resist the urge to check her feet for glass slippers. But she wasn't blind; of course she'd also noticed the cute guy with the dark, curly hair and short, scruffy beard who kept glancing her way. He dressed like another refugee from Alex's parents' tax bracket and seemed more concerned than captivated, but before it got to the point where she would have had to confront the guy or mention him to Alex, he disappeared. She dismissed the instinctive pang of disappointment and moved on with her night.

She thought she saw the same guy again one other time a month or so later, but he didn't linger long that evening, and she'd decided it had just been a coincidence. Either he'd been having a bad day, or she'd reminded him of someone, but either way it wasn't anything to do with her. But then, about six months into her new relationship – past the point where Grace had stopped seeing anyone else and had started wondering whether Alex was serious enough about her that it would be worth giving up her independent little shoebox to move into his super luxurious condo – the cute stranger showed up again. Not at a bar this time, though; he walked into the office during working hours.

"Um, hi," she said as he stopped in front of her desk. No point pretending she didn't recognize him, or that he didn't recognize her; he looked more than a little amused at her surprise. "Do you have an appointment to see the financial advisor? Or is this some kind of stalking thing? Because I gotta say, as much as you were frowning at me before, I didn't think I was your type."

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Does it count if I wasn't stalking you on my own behalf? I'm Daniel Le Domas. And you're...." His eyes tracked down to her name plaque, then back up to her face, eyebrows lifting. "Grace?"

"Daniel ... as in Alex's brother?" she blurted, then jumped hastily to her feet. She could feel her cheeks warming; what a great impression she must be making. Alex had told her a little about his family, but had waved off the idea of introducing her every time she'd asked, claiming to want to keep her all to himself for a little while. Why hadn't he told her one of them was around? "Oh, my god. It's great to meet you! Except, wait. Why would he have his brother stalking me? I'm not exactly keeping any secrets; what you see is what you get with me."

She gestured to herself as she spoke; Daniel's eyes followed the motion, and she didn't think she was imagining the way his gaze lingered before it came back up to her face. There was no trace of a leer in his expression as he replied, though, just a faint, wry hint of amusement. "Which is unusual enough all on its own where we come from," he replied, dryly. "But don't worry, he doesn't know anything about it. I just wanted to see what was keeping him away from the family."

The way he pronounced 'unusual' almost sounded like a synonym for 'suspicious' rather than 'exciting'. That seemed like an exhausting way to live; Grace was glad Alex, at least, seemed to have outgrown that mindset. But Daniel also made it sound like Alex wasn't just keeping her to himself, he was avoiding the family entirely, and that did concern her. As someone who'd grown up without solid family ties, she didn't want to be the cause of someone else damaging theirs. That was a conversation for Alex, though, not for his brother, however attractive and strangely magnetic that brother might be.

"Nice try, but he told me the day we met that he was celebrating six months out on his own," she replied good-humoredly. "So as flattering as that assumption might be, I've actually been trying to get him to introduce me; you'll have to look elsewhere for what's keeping him away."

"Oh, I didn't mean directly," he replied. There was a roguish curve to his smile, as though he was trying to charm her into not realizing this was an intervention. "He's talked big about getting away from it all before, but he's never actually done it. School, business trips, long vacations, sure; but not turning up like clockwork for the holidays? I knew he had to have found something worth staying away for."

That really would be flattering ... if she could trust that Daniel was right about Alex's motives. And that he wasn't trying to play some kind of one-percenter game with her. But no; manipulation was definitely the more likely option. Scaring off the foster kid who'd only even been able to afford college by working her ass off for scholarships and work-study opportunities, before she trapped his blue-blooded brother into marriage? Well, if that was what he was doing, he was welcome to try.

"Great. Well, you've found me. I'll tell Alex you stopped by to say hello," Grace said, a wide calling-you-on-it smile coming easily to her face.

For the first time since he'd walked in, Daniel's smile slipped, leaving him looking vaguely tired. "Hey, whoa," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "That wasn't meant as a threat. I'm actually glad he's found someone who makes him happy. I'm just here because ... I guess I wanted to be sure."

Interestingly, he'd actually picked up on her change in tone; usually, people that high on the food chain – eldest sons of old monied families – never had to learn how to read a room. At least, not in her experience. After all, everyone else was supposed to read them, right? Even Alex had his moments, as earnestly as he tried to overcome them. But again, that was a conversation for her boyfriend, not his brother.

"Sure of what?" Grace said, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.

She expected Daniel to fire back with something like that you aren't a gold-digger, offered with that roguish smile, still half flattery and half challenge. But instead he shrugged, tucking his hands in the pockets of his expensively tailored trousers. "That you chose him, too."

That was a really fucking odd thing to say. Of course she'd chosen Alex; she was actively dating the guy. In what world would Grace be with him without choosing him? Was that some backhanded suggestion that Alex might have been paying her? She wasn't sure whether to be charmed or offended; which really was of a piece with this entire conversation.

"Sure, okay, if you want to put it that way," she said, trying to lighten the tone again. Given the choice, and given that he was still Alex's family, she was going to assume Daniel hadn't been trying for the insult. "He's sweet, he's great in bed, and he actually cares what I think; what's not to choose?"

He did smile at that, but it looked strangely brittle, as if something about that answer wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. The mention of sex with his brother, maybe? Well, she was never going to pretend to go virginal into any future marriage bed, whatever anyone else's hang-ups might be. "What indeed," he said, half to himself, rocking back on his heels.

Then he nodded to her and turned toward the exit. "It was nice to meet you, Grace. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope none of the rest of the family ever does. If you do tell Alex I was here, tell him I'm not running Dad's errands anymore."

"Okay...?" Grace replied, taken aback, as the door closed behind him.

What a fucking strange conversation. She wasn't at all sure what to make of it; and as mixed as her own feelings were, she couldn't imagine how Alex would react. Maybe she shouldn't tell him. It wasn't as though his brother had actually done anything, after all; just said a lot of provoking things and then disappeared back out of her life. If she was going to take offense to anyone who did that, then she'd be a much angrier person.

Grace promised herself a cigarette after work, then shook her head and picked up the office phone as it began to ring, dismissing Daniel Le Domas from her thoughts.

It was another three months before she saw the man again. Working in the financial industry, even if she didn't have the same fancy title as her boss, meant the occasional work conference or corporate party held in swank hotels. Apparently, the same was true for billionaire gaming magnates, to judge by the suit Daniel was wearing when she caught sight of him crossing the hotel's lobby. What title did he even hold, anyway? Grace knew their dad still ran the overall company, but Alex hadn't been very clear about the rest of the family's involvement.

There were a few other men in suits with Daniel; by the body language, they were as done with their day as she was, sharing a few last anecdotes on their way to their separate evenings. Professional colleagues, not buddies. She'd just finished turning down an invitation to dinner from one of her own conference acquaintances, judging the lukewarm companionship on offer not worth the inconvenience of another hour spent in a skirt and two-inch heels. She bit her lip indecisively for a moment, trying to decide whether it would be more awkward to acknowledge Daniel or just pretend she hadn't seen him. But then he glanced in her direction, and the way his expression just opened at the sight of her made the breath catch in her throat. Surprise, appreciation, calculation; he was so obviously a rich bad boy who wasn't even trying to shed his origins the way his brother was, but she couldn't deny that he had his own appeal.

"Grace!" he called, starting across the lobby toward her, the corner of his mouth curling in a warm, wry smile. "Is it my turn to accuse you of stalking me?"

"As flattering as that assumption might be – to you – I'm afraid it's not that exciting," she said, turning the conference schedule in her hands so he could see the title. "Work."

"Ah." Some of the tension went out of his shoulders as he came to a halt in front of her; it made Grace wonder how many people had set traps for him before, and if Alex had ever had to deal with the same. He didn't like to talk about that part of his life with her, beyond saying he was glad that it was behind him now. "Fascinating topic?"

"Oh, just riveting," she agreed dryly. "You here for work too?"

"How'd you guess?" Daniel replied in kind, glancing down at himself and then raising a teasing eyebrow in her direction. "Not my favorite thing either, but while I may not be the favored son, I'm the one my father still has on hand. Someone's got to do the job."

Her smile went a little brittle at the jab; though she wasn't sure why, as she fully supported Alex's decision to leave the family business behind. It was the family themselves she wanted to fit in with; she didn't particularly care what they did for a living. And didn't they have another sibling, anyway? Then again, that might be the dynamic here; while Grace might not have official siblings herself, she knew very well how competitive children who grew up in the same household could be. Particularly if their guardians might not have been the best at giving them the attention they needed.

"Poor little rich boy, bemoaning the fit of his diamond shoes," she teased, deflecting.

That surprised a laugh out of him, and he grinned, a wry curl at the corner of his mouth. "You could say that, I suppose. Hey, are you doing anything right now? I was just going to head to the bar, but I could probably do with a few calories first if you think you could tolerate a dinner with me and my sparkly metaphorical footwear."

Grace had already forgotten all about her own footwear woes and intention to retire to her room; if nothing else, Daniel's company would be the farthest thing from 'lukewarm'. "I think there might be an evening talk on the architecture of our systems software and pending upgrades, but I think our IT people can survive without me knowing the details," she grinned back at him.

He brightened, looking surprisingly bashful for a man in his thirties probably wearing more than she earned in a month, and crooked an arm in her direction. "Then if you'll allow me, my lady?"

She shook her head, something in her undeniably pleased at the gesture despite the ridiculousness of it all, and set her hand on his forearm. "Lead the way."

They didn't go far; only to the ritzier of the hotel's two restaurants. Grace didn't normally indulge in that sort of splashing out – except when Alex paid, of course – but she could afford the occasional splurge meal if she really wanted to, and this seemed as good an excuse as any. Much better than whatever room service she might have had delivered to her room, in any case.

Daniel held out her chair when they got to the table, further proving that Alex's old-fashioned touch of manners wasn't just him, and didn't insist on leading the conversation either, something she appreciated about them both. He was friendly, funny, and surprisingly relatable, sharing anecdotes about growing up with Alex in an oversized mansion and how bitchy his coworkers could get over the most minuscule aspects of marketing design. She found herself dishing back about the rich rural clients who showed up in dirty coveralls to see how well they'd be treated and how rootless her childhood had been, always tearing her away from any possessions she couldn't carry and any people she might've learned to care about.

By the time she'd finished her entrée and her second glass of chardonnay, Grace was slightly tipsy and more relaxed than she probably should have been around an essential stranger, but she almost couldn't help it. He obviously wasn't perfect; he'd had at least twice as many drinks as she had, a potential red flag, and he couldn't quite hide that cynical note that seemed to underpin his entire personality. But he was charming, and he really seemed to see her as a fellow human being. As much as she adored Alex, there was almost a glossy finish to him, like a Disney-issued fairy tale hero freshly out of the packaging. Daniel, by contrast, seemed somehow more real. Like, say, the scrappy huntsman in that overwrought live-action Snow White movie rather than the long-suffering prince consort in waiting.

If she'd seen this side of him during their earlier encounters, Alex might have seemed a little less like the ideal endgame. There was a little voice inside Grace insisting even now that they'd never really had the conversation about exclusivity, had they? One might assume that would be implied by the fact that she'd finally moved in with him, but they'd never actually spelled out their boundaries.

"The minute we have a permanent house of our own," she found herself insisting aloud to head off that line of thought, "I am going to nest the hell out of that motherfucker. Alex likes to pretend he doesn't have any positive decorating opinions, but we can just start with 'no heavy wood or ornate brass' and see where that takes us. Garage sale chic, shelves cluttered with vacation tchotchkes, bookcases full of silly regency romances and pop mysteries. Maybe even a fancy wine rack for drinking, not just the appreciation value."

"Already thinking long-term then, huh?" Daniel asked, smile taking on that sharp edge again. "You do know the standard Le Domas relationship model is three years of official courtship followed by a fancy home wedding attended by all the best families, right? Not to cast doubt, but have you shared that dream of yours with Alex yet?"

Grace rolled her eyes at him. "Maybe not in so many words, but he knows how I feel about having a real, permanent family and a place to belong with my name on the deed. You can big brother all you like, but we do know how to use our words, you know. I am not taking advantage of him, and he is not taking advantage of me. Well, you know. Except for the obvious," she added with a smirk.

Strangely enough, his smile only grew more bitter at that. "I hope you're right," he said, obliquely. But before she could question him in more detail, he caught sight of someone behind her and stiffened in his seat. He lost a little of that mercurial charm, expression going wooden, and dipped a hand into a pocket, coming out again with a gold band that he slipped onto his left ring finger.

Grace caught her breath at the sight of it, feeling bizarrely betrayed. On whose behalf, she couldn't even be sure; there wasn't anything logical about her reaction. It wasn't like he'd even said anything blatantly untoward. But he had been flirting with her. And intentionally deceiving her about being free to do so. If he'd been widowed, wouldn't he have just said? She couldn't even remember seeing a wedding ring on his hand when he'd visited her office, or in that bar back at the beginning, and she'd definitely have noticed. What the fuck had all this been, then, a test of her loyalty to Alex? Or did he really think fucking around with his brother's girlfriend behind his wife's back was okay?

Her own smile went tight as she watched a pair of young women approach, clearly long-term and jealous acquaintances by the way they purred through their greetings to Daniel and eyed her with disdain. They had the air of professional socialites, perfectly poised and dressed to be seen, not for comfort. Daniel was polite to them, but stiff and unwelcoming about it, and promised to pass their well wishes along to 'Charity'; they promised to do the same for his sister, then swanned on a moment later, pointedly not taking their leave of Grace.

"Sorry about that. Some of Emilie's friends," Daniel said by way of explanation, then paused as he caught her raised eyebrow. "What?" he asked, as if it shouldn't be obvious.

"I didn't know you were married," she managed to reply calmly. "I guess you'd know about that three-year courtship firsthand, then."

He blinked again, then lifted his eyebrows in return. "I would have thought Alex would have told you. After all, he was at my wedding, not long before he took off this last time. I kinda thought that was part of the reason he went; he didn't want to deal with our mother arranging his marriage next. He's a romantic, though of course you already know that."

Grace swallowed, not sure how to feel about that revelation. "And you're not?"

"Doesn't matter whether I am or not. Charity knew what would be expected of her and still wanted the life, and I knew Alex would be miserable if I waited any longer for him to go first, sentimental bastard that he is. So I offered, she accepted, and we came to an understanding. Closed front for the public, but in private, as long as we don't end up on TMZ or in jail, anything goes."

So it might not have been a test. But he did think fucking around behind his wife's back was okay. Probably not with Alex's girlfriend, though. She still felt obscurely stung, and disappointed with herself for that reaction, and when the hovering waiter returned with a water carafe in hand to top up her glass she shook her head.

"Well, this has been fun, but I do have an eight o'clock panel to attend in the morning," she said, summoning up a polite smile as she plucked the table napkin back out of her lap and set it next to her plate. "It's been nice to get to know you a little better; you really should call Alex sometime. I think he'd love to hear from you."

"I think you know better than that," Daniel replied, sighing. "Look. All the families in our social circle have their secrets. We're not any more or less fucked up than most – unfortunately – but culture shock is obviously still going to be a thing for you. Talk to Alex, okay? There's a few things you really ought to know before you get any further in plotting your happily ever after."

"We have a healthy communication style; I'm sure he'll tell me what I need to know when I need to know it," Grace assured him, rolling her eyes as she reached for her purse to retrieve her credit card.

"No, don't worry about; I've got it covered," he insisted. "And I mean that. Alex may have mostly got out, but there's still a few hurdles he can't avoid, and he knows it. If he does propose, make sure you ask him about what marriage really means for a Le Domas before you answer. Promise me that much, at least."

Considering the nature of his own marriage, Grace didn't think he was really the right person to be asking that of her, but she chalked the request up to big sibling energy again. It went against the grain to let him pay for dinner as well after the way it had ended, but she didn't feel like lingering there awkwardly either, or causing a scene for the waitstaff. "All right, all right, I promise," she replied. "And, thank you."

"No problem." Daniel gave her a slightly warmer, crooked smile as she stood. "It was nice to get to know you a little better, too. Alex is a lucky man."

What was she supposed to say to that but 'thanks'? Grace smiled at him, gave him a perfunctory family-adjacent hug of farewell, then turned and strode out of the restaurant as quickly as she could without looking like she was fleeing. Then she headed straight up to her room. Her toes were feeling pinched again, and she had a distinct need to hear Alex's voice in her ear.

Not that she'd tell him about this meeting either, she didn't think. But they probably should have that conversation about exclusivity and where they saw their relationship going in the medium term, at least. Not because Daniel had said anything, but because it was good relationship goals regardless.

Nine months was a bit of a record for her too, after all. And much as she hoped they were on the same page, it would be good to be sure. Too-tempting deceptive boyfriend's brothers aside.

Grace didn't outright ask Alex if he was going to propose, but she did drop a few more hints in conversation after that, talking about her dreams for the future and asking about his. It was frustrating to find that his claim not to have an opinion other than 'not what he grew up with' really was the limit of his preferences in most situations; it was nice to know that he seemed to think she was an angel that could do no wrong, but she'd have preferred a little more collaborative effort. Building things together, rather than pulling him along. But it was hardly his fault he'd been born in the family he had, and making comparisons to what a relationship with the brother she hadn't officially met might have been like wasn't fair to either of them.

It did provide her an opening to tease him about family secrets and give him an opportunity to explain whatever Daniel had been concerned about, though. Which ended up giving her serious food for thought about Daniel's claim that they were no more or less fucked up than any other rich family. Alex did finally mention Charity – who'd apparently spent more of her reception flirting with him than her own new husband – and dished a little more about the rest of his family's marriages. Emilie, the baby of the family, spent most of her time either baked or high, enabled by her husband; she made Alex's cigarette habit and their brother's drinking seem tame by comparison. Her kids were mostly raised by nannies. Their aunt Helene's husband had disappeared the day after their marriage, never to be seen again; family legend held that he'd cleared out her bank account and run, breaking her heart. One of Alex's cousins, Rachel, and her fiancé had turned up dead in an apparent murder-suicide, which wasn't even a first for the Le Domases; it had happened to one of his great-uncles too. And his father hired household staff for their looks and pliability, not their cleaning or cooking skills.

"I never saw any proof. But I'm pretty sure my mother doesn't care how many mouths he fills, so long as hers is still the only bed," Alex finished with a grimace. "They do love each other, and they love us; I do believe that. But since I realized just how not normal our household really is ... I mean it when I say you make me a better person. I want better for myself. For us."

He was so earnest and sweet about it, Grace let the subject drop. "Me too, Alex. Me too. You know how I grew up, how much it means to me to be able to make promises with someone else and see them kept. We'll just have to set our own standard. That doesn't mean you have to abandon your family entirely, though. I mean, we're all only human, right? Nobody's perfect. And like you said, they love you. When you're ready, I'd like to meet your siblings, at least."

"You might be right. We'll see," he replied, then drew her closer, arms slung loosely around her waist. "I'd like to discuss that setting our own standard part a little more first. By 'standard', I hope you don't mean you think we're starting to fall into a rut?"

A thrust of his hips made the double entendre clear, and she laughed. "I think you know that's not what I meant, but sure, I have nothing better to do this evening than feed your ego," she teased, leaning up to capture his mouth with hers.

"You're everything to me," he said when they broke apart again a moment later, expression entirely earnest. Then he stooped for another kiss and drew her back toward the bedroom.

He did finally propose a few months later, and even got back in touch with his mother to make the arrangements; Grace felt proud of her efforts there. But he stopped short of setting up any in-person introductions, much to her disappointment; he kept saying the wedding itself would be soon enough. He didn't seem to understand that she'd really rather get any fraught emotions and nerves out of the way first, so they wouldn't fuck up the ceremony; he just wanted to one-and-done it, and on that subject he wouldn't be moved.

Well, it wasn't like he could keep them from her afterward; she'd be Mrs. Grace Le Domas, not Ms. Grace Jones, able to send her own invitations without treading on anyone's toes. She'd just have to hope they liked her; well, and that Daniel wouldn't cause too much of a scene when they met 'for the first time'. As weird as Alex was about the whole subject of his family, she still wasn't sure how to bring up their previous encounters without mentioning what they'd talked about; the wedding would just have to be soon enough for that too.

Fucked up or not, from that day forward Alex's family would be hers too, and she couldn't wait.

Before she knew it, the actual day had arrived: the day Grace would finally have a family. Alex's mom – who insisted on being called Becky – had been very firm about the arrangements, but Grace mostly hadn't cared so long as the wedding actually happened and she got to pick her own dress, so everything was mostly ready when they arrived. The mansion itself was enormous: square footage easily over six digits, the kind of place most people would only ever encounter as a museum with a tour schedule, not an actual living home. Grace tried and failed to spot any entrances to the secret passages Daniel had mentioned in passing during their dinner convo and tried not to gape too much at the sculpted gardens, chandelier-hung ceilings, walls crowded with built-in shelves and atmospheric oil paintings, and fancy furniture that belonged in a historical documentary crowding every room.

She felt very self-conscious, annoyed at herself for being so, and determined that the day would fulfill all her dreams, no matter what. By the time she'd changed into her dress in Alex's old room and finished pep-talking herself in front of his mirror, there was only an hour or so left to go; she lit up one last cigarette for her nerves' sake, then bantered a little happily with Alex when he came in to check on her.

His gaze was properly appreciative; his teasing tone properly supportive; and her brief encounter with Daniel in the hall earlier had been properly ... well, not disruptive at least, though he'd been even more blatantly flirtatious this time, as if to pay Alex back for previous sibling transgressions. All in all, Grace had reached enough equilibrium that when Daniel found them again to summon them down for pictures, she was able to laugh at his and Alex's roughhousing and contemplate him maybe one day being the fun uncle to her children without her gut twinging too much at the thought.

But then he went abruptly serious on them, staring right past Alex to meet her gaze. "It's not too late to flee, you know," he said. "You don't belong in this family. I mean that as a compliment."

Grace raised her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged, as though he'd had to try. There was something strangely sad about his expression, as though she'd failed some test he'd set, which was really rich after everything. "Okay. Well, if you know everything now and you're still determined to be a Le Domas, then please get yourself outside and we'll get this party in motion," he continued, then turned back to Alex. "Congratulations, you fuck."

That hint of disapproval was nothing to what the rest of the family aimed her way, though; Grace gritted her way through all the photo ops as best she could, still determined not to let anything throw her. The gray-haired woman who could only be Aunt Helene was the worst of them, but even Alex's father looked at her like she was out of place, and his sister hadn't even bothered to show. The highlight, which she probably should have expected, was when the photographer – the butler doing double-duty – paired her with Daniel; the corners of her soon-to-be brother-in-law's eyes crinkled, expression still weirdly resigned but rallying with amusement as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and murmured in her ear.

"Last chance for a quickie before we're officially family," he said, then grinned wider as she threw him a disbelieving side-eye. "No, you're right," he continued; "better to wait until we're both cheating. Really up the spice factor."

She snorted a laugh, trying not to distort her face too much, and felt inexplicably cheered despite her irritation at the subject. "Daniel," she hissed back.

"Oh, don't take it personally," he shrugged. "I told them you're not a gold-digging whore like Charity was, but you're still not one of us until you are, remember? So give them until tomorrow at least."

Grace wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. It wasn't like she and Alex had been waiting virginally for the wedding night, and they'd already set most of the legal stuff in motion, so the ceremony itself seemed like a weird line for the family to draw. But whatever.

"Sure, if you say so," she shrugged back, then was finally released to stand on the sideline for a few minutes while the rest of the family finished up. She didn't miss the frown that crossed Daniel's face before his wife joined him; Charity looked like she didn't want to be there either, not that Grace was trying to judge. She'd looked cozier standing next to Alex's dad ... and Grace decided she really didn't want to follow any further down that train of thought, so she turned gratefully to Alex's mother as the woman approached to give a sort of pep talk of her own.

Stand tall and fuck 'em; maybe there was another of the family she could actually get along with, after all. Grace felt her nerves calm as she was finally led away to her starting mark for the ceremony and set about living the next few hours to the fullest.

The wedding itself and most of the reception passed in a joyful blur. She didn't know most of the families on the groom's side, but they all seemed sort of reservedly welcoming; maybe she'd actually make some friends among them. Charity didn't hit on Alex, Daniel mostly kept his distance from Grace, and everyone else danced with the partners who'd brought them and chatted sociably over dinner before pressing her with well-wishing hugs and departing. The gift table groaned with prettily wrapped bags and packages, Alex had gradually relaxed over the course of the party, and Becky smiled at her every time their gazes met; by the time she drew Alex back up the stairs to his room after seeing off the last of the guests, Grace was well and truly drunk on happiness as well as champagne. So maybe the day had started off a little rocky, but she really thought they were going to be all right.

At least, until Alex interrupted her in the middle of trying to strip off his clothes to get to the consummating portion of the evening's events. "Listen, I have to tell you something."

"Mm-mm. Shut up and take your pants off," she replied impatiently, shimmying against him.

"No, I have to tell you something," he insisted. "Grace, honey...."

She paused at that, a frown pulling between her brows, and abruptly, for the first time in months, remembered Daniel's parting words from their last meeting.

Make sure you ask him about what marriage really means for a Le Domas, he'd said. Was the twisted family tree not all of it? Grace knew it was probably nothing, but her gut sank at the expression on Alex's face, deathly serious and unusually pale. "What?" she started to ask – then gasped as she saw someone practically emerge from the wall behind him.

The intimacy of the moment was lost as Aunt Helene broke in on their privacy to tell them everyone was waiting, like that was a normal thing to say after eleven o'clock on someone's wedding night. After arriving through a secret passage. Alex fumbled some explanation about a game Grace had to play as the person joining the family, some kind of initiation that he'd never thought to mention before.

"Honestly, it means more to them than the wedding itself," he summed up, expression anxious.

Remember, you're not one of us until you are, Daniel had said; he'd clearly trusted Grace had followed his advice, and hadn't even doubted his brother would have filled her in.

It was ridiculous and weird, but the sinking feeling in her gut grew worse, and she ended up really needing the ten minutes she teased Alex into giving her to breathe her way through the illogical panic. It was just a game. Backgammon or croquet or checkers. Why was that something Daniel had felt the need to warn her to ask about so obliquely, and why hadn't Alex actually told her until the last minute?

When she finally did go downstairs, Alex's mother added to the weirdness with an oddly earnest appeal to bring Alex back into the family fold, and then Emilie's family finally showed up, Emilie herself wearing a dusting of cocaine like a moustache and her children merrily chanting 'Kill, kill, kill'. It was like something out of the prelude to a horror movie, and she kept telling herself to shake it off; that Daniel had just been trying to unnerve her as part of the brothers' sibling rivalry and she was worrying about nothing.

But instead, it just got worse: they led her into a 'game' room with the family name painted on its heavy doors in an ornate font, with animal heads looking down from the walls, board games with ominous names behind glass on the built-in bookshelves, and a portrait of the family founder over a giant gun adding to the creepy theme. Alex's dad, Tony, gave a drawling speech about the family's origins, describing the original deal that had set up their fortune, then passed around a weird box with instructions on how to insert a blank card and remove it with the name of the game they were to play.

Daniel watched her with a wary, resigned expression through all of it, as if feeling as ready to get the whole thing over with as she was. Grace glanced at him, then at Alex's still strangely pale face, then followed the instructions and drew the card.

"What does it say, girl?" Helene demanded, tone as harsh as her habitual glare.

"It says ... 'hide and seek'?" Grace laughed nervously. It wasn't a board game after all, or any kind of game that required equipment, which seemed even weirder than all the rest of it after the whole speech about how their business started. "Are we really gonna ... is something wrong?"

Alex looked like he was about to pass out, staring at the box in mute dismay; but it was Daniel's expression that really caught her attention. He looked aghast, and inexplicably furious, fists clenched atop the table as he stared directly at her.

"You promised to ask him. You promised," he said, accusingly.

"I did," she replied, more confused than ever. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you had, then you wouldn't ask that," he replied furiously, then turned to his brother. "Why didn't you fucking tell her? You knew."

"What, no...." Alex started to object.

"Boys..." their mother tried to break in, frowning at them both.

"I told you, I looked into it!" Daniel continued heatedly, ignoring the interruption. "You bitched at me for marrying Charity, but I made sure she knew the score. And she didn't pull that card, did she? It's always the ones who don't know. The innocents. Think about it for a minute! It's not rocket science, Alex! You're supposed to be the good son!"

"I thought you were jerking my chain," Alex objected, looking ill. "I thought maybe Granddad just didn't like Uncle Charlie, or, I don't know, there hadn't been enough goats that year. It hasn't happened since; so why the fuck would it happen now?"

"Because you're meant to lead this family," Aunt Helene butted in. She stared at Alex-- all of them were, in fact-- as though Grace's presence had become irrelevant. "You're simply afraid of who you truly are, like I was. I failed the test; but you shall not."

"Goats?" Grace spoke up, glancing between all of them. "Test...? What the fuck is going on?"

"Nothing, my dear," Becky replied dismissively, standing up and glaring the others down. "Just a family squabble; some people are drunk enough that they'd have preferred a game where they didn't have to get up and move." She came around the table, then took Grace by the arm and gently pulled until she stood up to follow. "Now come this way, and it'll be over with before you know it. We'll turn off the cameras, and you'll have to the count of a hundred to hide anywhere in the house; we'll start it as soon as you leave."

"But...." She glanced back toward her new husband and his brother, but found her view of them blocked by their father. "But if there's no way for me to win, how is this fair?"

"You don't have to win, just play," Tony assured her, with a false-sounding laugh. "It's your initiation, after all. Although I suppose you could stay hidden until dawn. Now just follow Becky now; and good luck!"

Grace half expected one of the guys to object again, but the doors shut between her and the rest of the family with a solid thunk. She stumbled back into the next room to the accompaniment of a Hide and Seek counting song that sounded like it belonged at a carnival, still dizzied by that bizarre conversation. Her hands trembled as she pulled off her shoes, and the last of the evening's good humor melted into cold dread as she tiptoed away, looking for a niche to tuck herself away in.

As silly as the game was, there was definitely something wrong; it felt as though her world had been turned entirely upside down. And the only one who'd tried to warn her was....

She bit her bottom lip, thinking about it, then picked up speed, padding quickly through the halls toward the room she'd been told was Daniel's. She didn't know if he'd think to go there, but she did know where the secret panel in his room was from those childhood stories, so at least no one else could corner her until she had a slightly better idea what was going on. But she'd drop by Alex's room first, next to Daniel's, to exchange her fancy heels for something a little more conducive to running and grab her phone; she should have just enough time for that if she hurried.

Except of course her phone was missing, and she'd barely retreated behind the door of Daniel's room hoping to find his when a loud gunshot and a louder conversation from next door made the actual game at hand deathly clear. One of the maids was dead. And the only thing they were concerned about was that Emilie hadn't shot Grace.

They wanted to kill her. And while her own husband didn't seem to be in on it, he'd obviously known it might happen and hadn't warned her either. Grace spent a good few minutes absorbing that thought as she hyperventilated, wedged behind Daniel's bed out of sight of the door, and tried to come up with a plan. Try a landline? No, if they'd stolen her cell, they'd have done something to cut off any other way to call for help, too. Windows? A glance showed a little blinking box fixed to the frame of the one in Daniel's room; she'd probably have to break the glass to get out, and the noise would paint a target on her back even if it didn't set off an alarm. If they had guns, they could fire at her before she got out of sight, and if the windows were locked by the security system the doors probably were too.

Could she get to the security room? Probably not; it could be on any of the floors in any corner walled off by weird pockets in the architecture. Could she hide until they gave up? Maybe, if Tony's joke about dawn was the actual deadline; but did she really want to trust in that if they were trying to kill her? None of it made any sense to Grace; it was as though she'd married an alien in a human suit who'd gone just native enough to fool her but not enough to actually defend her from his family when they finally cast off their own disguises.

Would the staff help her? Maybe, but again, did she really want to trust her life to that? Half the glares she'd fielded during the pre-wedding photos had been from the butler and the maids, and if Tony really had hired the help for more personal purposes than just maintaining the house, they'd probably be more likely to stick with him for either loyalty or fear of reprisal.

No, it seemed like the only thing left to her was the old servants' corridors. Maybe she could use them to get to the roof, or the basement, or somewhere far enough out of the way she had a chance of breaking free before the sound alerted her pursuers. She waited another twenty minutes or so, until she was absolutely sure neither Daniel nor Alex were coming, then took a deep, fortifying breath, brushed the seeping tears off her cheeks, and opened the panel behind the bed.

The first thing she did was use her ring to gouge the back of the door as a landmark. Then she repeated the gesture with an arrow on every other door she passed. The backside of all those ornate walls had turned out to be braced with brick, deadening sound and helping hold up the weight of the massive structure. There were many doors spaced along the length of the corridor, but the path twisted in ways that did not seem familiar from the layout of the corridors outside, and none of the doors came with labels or any other distinguishing features; it was a total maze. So why not treat it like one?

Grace laughed to herself nervously, then found a staircase down and made her way across the length of the house, listening at doors as she went. But when she finally thought she'd found a quiet corner and stepped through, she found herself face to face with an equally startled Daniel, standing next to the billiard table. She tripped over the hem of her dress, gasped as she hit the floor on hands and knees, then swore and got back to her feet, ripping at the fabric.

"Grace," he said blankly, staring at her with the strap of a rifle over his shoulder. "What are you...?"

"What do you think," she hissed as she worked, tearing until she had several inches of clearance above the ground and hands full of tattered gauze. "You couldn't ... you couldn't just tell me? This is sixty shades of fucked up, Daniel. Why the fuck are they doing this?"

She knew she was taking a risk trusting him, especially since he was walking around free with a weapon after that argument in the game room; but she didn't think it was that much of a risk. He'd played along with his family's other rules while undercutting them; why not this one too? And sure enough, he turned his face away, picking up a tumbler full of amber liquid instead of readying the gun.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he said grimly as he took a sip. "We don't call ourselves Satanists, but well, we are; and so are most of the other families in our circle. I couldn't just tell you beforehand; it was against the rules. Only the one bringing a new initiate in can do that."

"A new initiate?" she spat, throwing down the torn fabric and kicking it to the side. "So all of your family have been...? For five generations? What other rules did I fucking miss?"

He snorted, then gave her a crooked smile. "Let's see. Kids born in are innocent until their first sacrifice, animal or human; so I've been doomed since I was, oh, six or seven? About Georgie and Gabe's age, which is ironic, considering. There's a regular sacrifice schedule required to maintain the bargain; goats are the usual choice. But all new spouses have to play Le Bail's fucking game, or the couple dies the morning after the wedding, and if the Hide and Seek card is pulled, the initiate has to die by dawn. If you slack off the sacrifices, or spare the one who draws the card, the eradication clause is triggered. So one way or another, we're all fucked now."

There were all kinds of fucked-up implications buried in that list, but she focused on the most immediately important. "You thought you knew a way out. You wanted to get Alex to tell me, so I'd live," Grace whispered through numbed lips. "But instead, he served me up."

"I don't want you to die, Grace," Daniel said, finally meeting her gaze again. "But I don't really want my family to die either. They're evil, but it's not like I'm any better, and they're my family."

"You are better," she said, brushing at a fresh welling of tears. "You at least fucking tried." No wonder he'd looked so resigned when she'd blithely assured him she was determined to be a Le Domas. "Are you gonna call 'em?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "Alex knows the passageways at least as well as I do, and he said he'd get you out; I think he planned to get to the security room. If you can hide until he unlocks the doors...." He shrugged, and tossed back the rest of the liquor. "Well, I guess we'll see how real Le Bail actually is."

So much of Alex's foot-dragging about the wedding made more sense now. But he'd still subjected her to the ritual without warning. He might be in denial about the consequences – in retrospect, every time he'd told her she made him 'better' had ominous undertones – but it would have to occur to him at some point that if Le Bail was real, helping her escape would be suicide. And even if he wasn't, this was the kind of betrayal a relationship didn't come back from.

Of course, by that mindset, Daniel not turning her in would be suicide too, if it meant she got away.

Before she could think better of the impulse, Grace braced her hands on Daniel's chest and went up on tiptoe to press her mouth against his. He froze for half a second, then dropped the tumbler in favor of framing her hips with his hands, pulling her up against him hard enough that she could feel the imprint of his fingers through all the layers of the dress. She lingered briefly, almost wishing she hadn't let her common sense get the better of her nine months ago, then pulled back.

"If we both make it out of here, we're going to have a talk about your definition of fucked up," she informed him.

Daniel chuckled mirthlessly, then cocked his head toward the door to the main hall. "Wish I could give you another hundred-count; but how about ten? If you can get to the service kitchen, it'll probably be the easiest way out once Alex unlocks the doors."

"Like that's a completely normal room to have in a house. Like a music room. Or a fucking game room. What is this, Regency England?"

His smile widened just a touch, a shadow of roguish better times; then he reluctantly let go of her and slid the rifle strap off his shoulder. "Back to the other side of the house, take a left, and it's the door on the right at the end. Here, take this just in case. And: one one thousand."

"Oh, you fucker," Grace spat, fumbling the rifle as he pressed it into her hands. Then she turned and ran back to the secret panel.

"Two one thousand," she heard him continue as she opened it and squeezed inside; then "Two and a half one thousand..." as she shut it behind her, banging the rifle butt against her ankles. Fucking Daniel.

No, fucking Alex. What the hell had he been thinking, dating her at all knowing this might happen? As sweet as he was, as much as she'd adored their life together, as much fun as they'd had, she'd been fucking a daydream the entire time. He could have told her! They could have kept living in sin! Gone somewhere they could register for a domestic partnership instead of the fucking white-dress ritual with 'ceremony' right there in the name!

She still didn't want to believe any of it was actually real ... but then there were those murder-suicides Alex had mentioned, and Aunt Helene's husband. Ironic, considering, Daniel had said; the memory of his tone made Grace shudder. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy; maybe the family made it come true. But either way, if Alex had really loved her and not just how she made him feel, they could have come up with something.

Flawed as he was, his brother was clearly the superior catch. Charity didn't know what she was giving up, choosing Daniel's name over his person. Or maybe she did and just didn't care. Fucking rich people.

Grace tried to slow her breathing again as she recalculated her bearings by the marks on the doors. Then she padded on in her yellow Chucks, following Daniel's instructions. Fortunately, the door she needed next was right where he'd said it would be. She inched quietly closer and pressed an ear against the panel, trembling.

Unfortunately, it was occupied, and whoever was in there really, really loved Tchaikovsky. Maybe the butler; was he guarding that exit? She swallowed, then sat carefully on the floor, looking up toward the inactive camera aimed at the door. She'd wait for the light to come on; that would mean someone really had got to the security room, right? Then she'd just take the risk and go.

Assuming someone else didn't think of the passages and follow her in there. But Grace could only deal with what was right in front of her; if she tried to wrap her mind around all of it right now, she'd go insane. She wrapped both arms tightly around the rifle as if it were a security blanket, then practiced her breathing some more, really, really wishing she'd been able to find a pretty wedding dress with pockets. Then she'd have a cigarette on her. Or maybe even her phone. But if wishes were horses, she'd have rode the fuck away from the east coast as a teenager and never been here at all.

She took another deep breath, watching the camera and listening, planning her divorce in her head. If Grace lived, and the eradication clause turned out not to be real, she and Alex were going to have a serious conversation about irreconcilable differences. She wouldn't even insist on the amount she'd been promised in the prenup; she'd just go. Take a hotel for a few days with the savings she hadn't touched in a while, ask her boss if there was an office with an opening in another state, and look for a new place to live. No clothes, no mementos, no furniture he'd touched: a clean slate and a new start.

Except maybe for Daniel's phone number. Maybe. She'd have to see how she felt about that in the morning.

Finally, just as the strains of the 1812 Overture died out, a little red light came on. Grace gasped in a shaky breath and got back to her feet, readying the gun. She wasn't exactly an expert, but she did know the mechanics of how to use one; one of her foster fathers had been an avid hunter. Then she pushed open the door.

Despite knowing he had to be there, she was more startled than Stevens was to find him right in front of her; before she'd even finished flinching he'd already recovered and lunged her way. She pulled the trigger almost on reflex, screaming as she fired, but her aim was for shit. Stevens swore and slapped a hand to the side of his face; she'd only creased his ear. She had managed to hit the window in the exterior door, though, shattering the blinking security mechanism with the glass, and the sight of the way out refocused her determination. Stevens was too close to use the rifle again, so Grace held on tight and swung it like a club instead, sending him staggering. Then she ran, checking the door with her shoulder as she fumbled for the handle, and stumbled straight out into the sweet, sweet night air.

She only made it a handful of steps before a heavy weight hit her back and the rifle fell somewhere to the side. Grace tried to struggle free, reaching to scratch at her attacker, but before she could turn all the way over something bit against her shoulder. She jerked her arm free of Stevens' grip before the syringe could disperse all its load into her system, but it had still been too much; she blinked woozily as the drug hit her system, collapsing on her back. For a heartbeat or two, there were several of the butler, dancing angrily before her eyes – and then a shadowy figure loomed behind him, scooped the rifle up from where she'd dropped it, and swung it at the back of Stevens' head. Their aim had been better than hers; he went down and stayed down.

"Grace. Grace?" It was Alex; he sounded worried, the hypocrite. "Shit, c'mon; we need to get you up."

"You fucker," she gasped, swatting feebly at his hands as he reached for her. "You fucker, you let this happen to me."

"Hey, no; I never thought they'd go through with it!" Alex continued making excuses as he pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her ribs and trying to guide her in the direction of the garage. "Everyone wanted me back; why would they make you pull that card? They had to know I'd be even more determined to leave if they did."

She couldn't believe she had to spell it out for him. "Maybe ... Le Bail, or whoever, took you at your word ... and if they were gonna lose you anyway...." she mumbled as she tried not to pass out.

"But I'm not like them anymore," he insisted. "You're the opposite of all of them; as long as I have you, I can be good too. So fuck 'em."

The logic burned in Grace's thoughts like fire, dissipating some of the drug-induced fog. All the times he'd leaned into her interests with enthusiasm, all the times she'd asked for his opinion on something and he'd deferred to hers, his insistence that his family were terrible people that she was better off staying away from, fell into place like puzzle pieces. She'd thought he actually respected her; maybe a little too much sometimes, but definitely as an actual partner in their relationship despite the disparity in their backgrounds. But she'd had it all wrong. He did think of her as an angel: but one made of marble instead of flesh, an object to be possessed and aspired to. An idol to worship in place of Le Bail.

Her stomach clenched, rebelling at the thought, and she dug in her feet to jerk her arm out of Alex's grasp, wobbling to a standstill. "You fucker," Grace repeated. "I'm not your fucking savior. I should never have had to be! I should never have been here at all!"

Alex reached for her again, expression pleading. "But if we hadn't come, we couldn't have gotten married. And if I hadn't proposed, you would have left me."

"Fucking assumptions!" she shrieked, aiming a wobbly punch in his direction. "Talk about making an ass out of you and me! You didn't even try to find a third option?"

They'd made it nearly all the way to the back of the garage; a new figure stepped out of the shadows behind it now, brow furrowed with concern.

"Uh, guys; maybe this isn't the time." Daniel's cheek looked bruised, and he'd picked up a new weapon to replace the rifle now in Alex's hands: a fucking crossbow. "Get out of here first. Renegotiate your relationship later. And be glad I was the one sent to search this section of the grounds; they probably thought they were keeping me out of the way. Charity's mad enough to chew nails since she found the piece of your dress you left behind in the billiard room, Grace, and Emilie's already accidentally killed Clara and Tiana. No one knows you're out of the house yet, but they will soon after all that racket."

Alex glanced down at Grace's bared ankles at the reference to her dress, then frowned at her and turned a suspicious look toward Daniel. "And why are you helping? Are you trying to set us up?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Because he's your brother, and the only Le Domas who actually sees me as a human being as far as I can tell. Just get us the fuck out of here, we can talk it out later."

"Pull over before dawn, though, just in case," Daniel joked, then stepped back, gesturing toward the garage's side door. A little black box was fixed to the jamb there too, but the light on it glowed green; at least that part of the escape plan had gone right.

Alex made no move in that direction, though; something about Grace's last words had fixed him in place. "The only Le Domas besides me, you mean," he said, slowly.

Grace pressed her mouth into a flat line; she still felt a little sluggish, but she'd fucking march into the garage and get behind the wheel herself if he didn't get a move on. "Alex, let's just go."

"You're going to leave me, aren't you," he said slowly, something freezing over behind his eyes.

"Guys...." Daniel interjected, glancing toward the house.

She didn't reply, but Alex read her answer in her expression anyway. "Maybe Aunt Helene was right after all," he said, almost to himself, then firmed his jaw and tightened his grip on the rifle.

Grace reacted without thinking again as he lunged toward her, hot fury chasing renewed terror through her system. How dare he. How fucking dare he. Her knee came up with a vengeance, followed by her fists clubbed together on the back of his head as he bent over, wheezing. Then she turned and ran, grabbing Daniel's hand and dragging him with her through the door.

"What the fuck was that. What the fuck?" Daniel breathed, bracing himself on the nearest car. "Why did you just...?"

"You know why," she said, wincing as the pained shouting continued from outside.

"No. No. He was supposed to be the good one. The one who got out," he insisted.

"No, he was just lying to himself and everyone else," she said, voice wavering a little as she swiped at her eyes again. "We can drink each other under the table about it later, though. Are you sober enough to drive?"

"More than you are, at least," he said, glancing at Grace worriedly. "But I can't just go; my family...."

"Unless you're going to drag me back in there, your family will survive or not no matter what you do," she reminded him. "Think of it as me kidnapping you, if that makes you feel any better. Just get me the fuck out of here. And maybe, yeah, pull over before sunrise."

She gave him a tiny, grimly teasing smile; he snorted, then shook his head. "Why the fuck not." He headed for what must have been his own car; it let him in with a keypad code and a thumb pressed to the ignition. Then he leaned across the seats and opened the passenger side door. "Your chariot, my lady?"

Grace couldn't scramble inside fast enough. "Finally. Let's go."

Daniel hit the garage door button, then peeled out in reverse and quickly turned to head down the drive. He didn't wait for the gate at the end to open, just sped right toward it, a shortcut proved worth the haste when a gunshot cracked the rear windshield. Their escape had been discovered.

But not soon enough. The gate shrieked and jolted as the car knocked it off its hinges, rattling briefly under the tires before they left it in the rearview. Then Daniel pressed the pedal to the metal, accelerating until they were out of view of the gaping hole in the fence.

A few quick turns and tense detours got them away from any of the straight routes anyone chasing them might take. Then Daniel merged onto a highway going north and set the cruise control exactly four miles over the limit, blending in with what traffic there was at that hour.

Grace just breathed as the adrenaline and the sedative both worked their way out of her system, staring at the darkness outside as she catalogued the bruises, strained muscles, broken heart, and shattered dreams the evening had cost her. Alex had really been going to do it. He'd been ready to turn her over to his family to be sacrificed, just because she'd had a rational, gut-check response to all the lies and sheer fucking insanity he'd dumped her into without warning.

She reached across the seats, not daring to look at Daniel or say anything; but a moment later she felt warm fingers twining in amongst hers as the miles continued rolling under the wheels. And then, just a couple of hours later, as the stars were starting to fade in the sky, he took an exit somewhere in a gap between cities and pulled into a rest area, parking at the far end beyond the buildings.

"Just a few minutes, now. And then we'll see," Daniel said, voice rough.

Grace watched him, taking in the resigned anxiety in his expression; he really thought it was true. That Le Bail would kill the family for not killing her; that he was about to die, and all his family with them.

"Why?" she had to ask. He'd gone beyond rolling the dice; he'd actively helped her, despite his conviction.

He shrugged. "I knew at some point somebody had to burn it all down. Never thought it'd be me. But I just ... I didn't know Charlie, not really, but I knew you. The way your eyes dance when you're amused and flash when you're angry. How determined you are to live the best life you possibly can. Your potty mouth and the cigarettes you told Mom you don't smoke and that little chili pepper tattoo on your hand. None of us in that house were actually living, except you; we were all just going through the motions. I kind of regret Emilie's sons, they're not really old enough to understand, but they're already stamped in the same mold. If anyone deserves to live here, it's you."

Grace reached up, tracing her fingers over his face. She still had a hard time believing Satan, if he even existed, would bother making petty deals with humans, but religious trauma was a thing; and either way, the morning really would destroy the family, whether literally or after she called a lawyer. And the only one of them whose destruction she cared about at the moment was right there with her.

How had that creepy song put it? 'Don't waste another heartbeat.' She and Daniel had hidden pretty effectively, considering. But that didn't mean they had to waste the time they had left. "Do you think there's any leeway in the contract?" she tried to tease. "Would a little death count?"

Daniel gave her a disbelieving look. "I thought that's why you decided you wanted nothing to do with me. Cheating scumbag, and all that."

Yeah, he'd always seen her clearer than she'd have liked, and she hadn't exactly tried to hide her reaction. But that had been before. Grace let her smile slip, exhaustion and grief rising to the surface as tears began to well in her eyes once more. "Daniel. Do you want to make me feel better or not? This has been a really awful day, and I'd like to get something pleasant out of it."

He stared at her for a moment longer; then swore and unbuckled his belt. "What the fuck, I'm not that good a guy anyway. What am I trying to be a martyr for? Back seat – hurry."

They scrambled into the bench seat in the back, fumbling at their clothes, and were panting on the sharp edge of desperate arousal within moments. It seemed to take no time at all before she came apart with his mouth between her legs, the remainder of her white skirt rucked up around her waist as a rosy glow broke over the horizon. Then she finished him with her hand as he gasped against her shoulder a moment later, stress bleeding out of them both. Then he tucked himself absent-mindedly back inside his slacks and pulled her close to wait out the last few minutes.

Funny how that rough and hurried embrace had felt just as real, just as deeply connected, as any sweeter sex she'd ever had. Grace knew she should feel guilty, but she didn't, not at all.

"I guess you were right about the spice factor," she said suddenly, giggling from the sheer release of it all. "Oh fuck, Daniel. What the actual fuck."

He chuckled too, pressing a kiss to her hairline, then stared up at the ceiling of the car as the light got brighter and brighter. "What can I say. When you're right, you're right."

Eventually, it was undeniable. Dawn had risen and Daniel was still alive. Grace kissed him again, hard and fierce. Then she sat up and climbed back into the front seat.

"Should we go back? Just in case?"

He bit his lip, then shook his head as he slid back behind the wheel, expression a little shell-shocked. "No; we'll go to my place and call. Even if ... well, Stevens should still answer. If I ever see that house again, it'll be too soon."

"I hope you know a good lawyer, because if I'm not a widow, I sure as fuck want a divorce," she replied fervently, wrenching Alex's ring off her finger. Families came in all shapes; she didn't need the paperwork to prove where she stood, not anymore.

Her gaze crossed the rearview mirror at that thought, and for a brief, terror-struck second, she thought she saw a fiery figure staring back at her, inclining its head. But then she blinked and Le Bail was gone.

"You and me both," Daniel replied, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her bared finger. "Don't worry; I promise never to ask you to go through that again. But if you wouldn't mind a little more recreational infidelity while we figure things out...."

She shivered, then stopped his mouth with another kiss. Then, ready or not, they headed off into the new day.