Wrath (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #7) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,31

black trousers, and a striped tie with a perfect triangle knot at his throat.

“Good to see you too, Mel. It is a special day.” Wrath squeezes my fingers as we walk inside.

My eyes take in the interior. A crystal chandelier hangs from a two story entry, which leads to what looks like an enormous living room with sofas in velvet and floral damask, while a gas fireplace made from the same stone and stucco as outside flickers against the far wall.

People are milling about, fresh flowers in a bouquet three feet tall sit on the top of a black grand piano, which is playing on its own as we approach an ornate carved wooden desk with a pleasant, well put together woman sitting behind it wearing the same burgundy blazer as the doorman, only hers is paired with a black skirt and a white silk blouse underneath.

“Good day Mr. Phillips.” She looks at me and smiles. “And, can I assume, this is the brand-new Mrs. Phillips?”

Wrath nods. “That’s the deal. Where is she?” He asks, and I’m still not sure what’s going on but my confusion is mixed with awe at the beauty and warmth of this place.

The woman at the desk taps on a keyboard, looking at a computer monitor, then back at Wrath. “She’s in the conservatory. Just finished her afternoon walk.”

“Thanks.” With that we are walking down a couple other hallways, passing a dining room that looks like it could be from any five star restaurant as staff nod and greet us, everyone smiling at me because I’m sure it’s not every day a biker in his leather and a bow tie and a woman in a white wedding dress are walking the halls here.

We come to a set of double metal doors with a keypad on the side, and Wrath punches in a number making the doors buzz and open.

On the other side, things look exactly the same at the rest of the building, but when the door clicks shut behind us, I’m putting together we are in a more secure part of the facility.

“What are we doing?” I lean in and whisper, but Wrath just keeps walking.

We move through another set of doors into a glass greenhouse sort of room that is filled with green plants and even a little pond with a trickling waterfall, and I hear birds chirping from above.

Another smiling woman approaches. “She’s right over there,” she says to Wrath, then gives me a smile and a quick hello as we head in the direction she pointed.

Sitting on a bench is a tiny woman, with perfectly styled white hair, looking like a miniature version of Helen Mirren, with immaculate make up and even low red pumps matched with white slacks and a red silk blouse.

Wrath pulls me forward until he sets his hand on the woman’s shoulder and waits for her to look up at him.

“Hello?” She looks pleasantly confused looking at us both.

“Hi. Do you know who I am?” Wrath asks, and she stares at him, pondering, and then shakes her head.

“No. But you look nice enough. Would you like to sit?” She pats the bench next to her.

“No, but my wife would.”

She smiles, looking at me. “Sit, my dear. You look so beautiful. I remember my wedding day. I got married in Savanna. On the water. My husband is away. He’s in the Navy, but he’ll be back soon. He writes to me every day.”

I reach over and put my hand on hers. “I’m sure he will. I know he loves you very much.”

“Yes. He does. I miss him so.” She looks wistfully around the place, her face changing like she’s suddenly remembering something, then she gets a blank look and I glance at Wrath, who gives me a patient smile.

“Mom.” He says, crouching down in front of her, and her eyes drift back to him and then she sits up straight, a smile brimming on her red lips as she claps her hands together, her perfectly manicured red nails on the tips of crooked fingers.

“Henry!”

From there it’s like another entire celebration. Wrath’s father was in the Navy and when he returned, Wrath was conceived that same night from the story Irene told me.

We held hands and she treated me like I’d been her daughter forever. She cried happy tears, saying she’d dreamed Henry would find a nice girl and settle down someday. She worries about him so, he’s always found his own way, and she ended our visit saying