Sequel: In Too Deep
Status: complete

Plausible Deniability

love and ever after

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The day arrives. Aila is dragged from the manor first thing in the morning, grumbling the entire way. She hadn’t fallen asleep last night until after two. The other half of the bed was too empty without Niall. He’d slept in Mully’s room. Celine had demanded the soon-to-be newlyweds to sleep apart. She’d even stationed two guards outside of the bedrooms.

Aila only knows that because she tried sneaking out. Yuri smiled apologetically but ushered her back to bed.

Willow stands outside the salon, shivering in the cold December air, when Tania finally parks along the curb. Aila moves the seat so Gemma can clamber out of the car, then the trio follow Willow into the building. There are still hours until the wedding, but her friends demanded Aila be perfectly prim and proper-looking. Including an eyebrow wax and manicure.

Paisley raises a brow when Aila takes a seat. “So why the quick wedding? Like, I get it. He’s gorgeous, he fucks you good, and you love each other. But Chey has been engaged longer than you.”

“Are you pregnant?” Angel asks, clapping a hand to her mouth.

“No, absolutely not.” Aila laughs and shakes her head as the tech files her nails. “Just don’t wanna wait forever. I waited almost a year with Colton.”

“Whatever happened to him anyway?”

Aila shrugs. She knows. Tania and Gemma know. But these other women can’t ever know. Aila’s chest tightens at the thought of keeping such an enormous secret from them. She knows their friendship will come to an end soon. “Friendships, relationships, get you killed. Or worse than death. They get your loved ones killed, and you can do shit about it.”

She doesn’t want to lose Paisley. Angel. Cheyenne. Willow. But she has no choice. Not if it means keeping them safe.

The hours tick away, counting down until the time comes. Each second brings Aila closer to the moment she descends the stairs preceded by her friends. The moment she sees her future husband at the altar waiting for her to come to him. This time, he’s the one who has to wait.

Finally, finally, Mera steps into the room and says everyone is ready. Paisley helps Aila to her feet, Angel and Willow adjust the extravagant train of the dress, and Cheyenne carefully situates the thin tiara headpiece at the top of Aila’s forehead. Tania stuffs a handkerchief into the bodice of the dress with a wink.

“Borrowed. And new.”

Celine steps forward and runs a finger along the diamond pendant against Aila’s collarbone. “I truly hope you and Niall have a lifetime of happiness, butterfly.”

Outside the glass windows of the solarium, snow blankets the grounds. Moonlight sparkles off the white sea. Chairs form two separate sections inside—family and friends mingling together. Even Priscilla and Wendell came. Her mother looked suitably impressed with the manor when she first arrived.

Everything would be absolutely stunning if Aila could focus on anything other than her fiancé at the end of the aisle. He’s here. Unlike Colton, he hasn’t run away. She is getting the wedding she deserves. A dress fit for a princess, a new husband who would kill—and has done so—for her, and people who love her as much as she loves them.

Father Mahoney calls everyone to attention the instant Aila’s hand is wrapped in Niall’s. He smiles softly, squeezing her fingers, and stands up straight as the priest speaks of love and the sanctity of marriage. As Niall repeats the vows in a strong, clear voice.

“And do you, Aila Maleigh Greene, take Niall James Horan to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward? For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health? To love, cherish, and obey ’til death do you part?”

Before Aila can respond, Niall’s snort echoes through the silence. His shoulders shake. Someone gasps in the crowd gathered, and Tania snickers from behind Aila. Niall ducks his head, but she sees the flush in his cheeks. The exertion it takes for him not to break. His control—usually so perfectly held—falters. His mother glares from her seat when he laughs, loud and without shame.

“Stop being an ass,” Aila hisses, though she can’t stop her own smile.

He straightens up, mouthing an apology to the guests before nodding at the priest. Even Aila finds amusement in the vows. It has been a never-ending battle of wills between them since the beginning.

She refuses to obey his every command, to cower in the face of his frustration. She will never allow him to have expectations that she will mindlessly do as he demands. Instead, she argues with him on seemingly everything. The only time she doesn’t is when it’s her safety in question. He has ‘punished’ her often enough for that.

It always ends up very well for the both of them, though.

“I do,” she announces over his chuckles.

He slides the ring onto her finger with Father Mahoney’s blessing, and she does the same to him. His grip tightens around her hands. No one speaks. No one moves. Aila wonders if they even so much as dare to breathe. It’s as if the entire world has frozen in anticipation.

Bells ring through the city, and the priest beams as he turns to Niall, as he gives permission for the groom to kiss his bride. Niall doesn’t hesitate; he pulls Aila into his chest, eyes sparkling, and covers her lips with his. Far too passionate—demanding and devouring—for so many witnesses, the kiss promises now and eternity.

She laughs when he dips her, and he swallows down the sound. One of his hands reaches around her back, grabbing her ass. Aila gasps into the kiss. It’s what he was waiting for. He dominates her as surely as he has ever done in bed. Applause, cheering. Tania nearly screaming “It’s about damn time!” from her place in line.

The bells fall silent after twelve rings. They have done their job of heralding in the new year, the union of two hearts forever entwined. With the fireworks overhead and in the distance, Niall’s hold on her, Aila silently thanks Maura for choosing the thin line between December thirty-first and the first of January for the wedding.

No other date would have done.

The turn of the calendar symbolises more than just another year: It brings with it a new chapter, a new start. A new era in which Aila takes her place at Niall’s side.

“Oi, you quite done yet?” Zayn claps a hand to Niall’s shoulder. “I think you’ve put on a show long enough, and there are children present.”

Niall laughs and helps Aila stand upright again, glancing over his shoulder. Theo has his hands clapped over his eyes, and his repeated ‘Ewww’ can be heard even over the cacophony from the guests. Aila giggles, kissing her husband’s cheek, and moves to crouch in front of the child.

“We’re done, sweetie. No more kissing.”

“Promise?”

She tugs Theo’s hands down and bites back a smile at the disbelief on his face. “I would never, ever, ever lie to you, little one. Especially not after you did such a wonderful job of holding the rings for us.”

“I did?” His cheeks flush red, eyes bright as he nearly vibrates in his skin.

“You were excellent. Now, would you like to help Uncle Niall escort me to the ballroom? He might get lost without you.”

“Yes! Aunt Aila?” When Aila hums in acknowledgement, he throws his arms around her neck. “I’m glad you’re my aunt now. Uncle Niall isn’t so mean when you’re around.”

She embraces him just as tightly, promising she will always make Uncle Niall be nice to Theo. When they part, he slips his hand into hers as she stands. Niall links his arm with hers, and guests rise to their feet while bridesmaids and groomsmen pass the rows. The newlyweds follow, along with Theo. Aila catches Maura’s eye, lips forming a ‘thank you’, and she lets her husband lead her from the solarium.

“Oh, fuck, it’s beautiful,” she breathes once they step through the doors of the ballroom.

And it is. The staff has done a wonderful job of transforming the grand room into something truly magical. Strands of flowers drape along the walls, petals scattered on round tables. Candles flicker merrily in their places as centrepieces. Someone has tacked fairy lights around the pillars, along the top. Everything is gold, silver, or powder blue. Even Niall’s suit—somehow he’s managed to combine all three colours without looking garish.

The first dance as husband-and-wife brings tears to Aila’s eyes. Niall is so gentle, his hands holding her close while his forehead rests against hers. He doesn’t blink. He only stares at her with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you are right now?” he whispers under the lilting flute, the cries of a violin.

“You look amazing yourself.”

He does. And, despite sounding conceited even to herself, Aila knows she’s the most beautiful woman in the room. The lace of her sleeves leading to a silver-blue bodice drawn tight, draped over the skirt that pools around her feet. Even the sheer mesh cape—for lack of better words—that joins the train behind her. She feels more valuable than the million dollars the dress cost.

As soon as the song comes to an end, Paisley and Cheyenne are sweeping Aila off the floor for a dress-change. Still with lace, this one falls to her knees in a cascade of white with a ruffled neckline. Angel fixes her makeup and hair. Then Aila is back in the ballroom, able to walk more freely without worrying about tripping over the hem.

Her father sidles up to her once she’s made her rounds around the ballroom. “Can I dance with you?”

“Of course.”

It isn’t typical of Wendell to show any interest in his daughter. The reason for the attention becomes apparent when she watches him gazing around the room. When he jokes that she’s done well for herself, marrying so high above her class. Aila pulls away before the words are fully out of his mouth.

“Whatever financial problems you and Mother are having, I will play no part in solving.”

“Wasn’t asking you to.”

“No, you’ve just commented on my husband’s wealth. I know you, Father. You only speak to me when Mother tells you to do so. Tell her to speak to me herself if she wants something, but my answer won’t change. She will get nothing from me.”

Wendell stays silent as she storms away. Niall catches her eye from where he dances with his grandmother, and Aila shakes her head. Forces a smile. There is no need to cause a fuss tonight. So she grabs the arm of the nearest man—Harry—and demands he pay attention to the bride. He acquiesces without hesitation.

Maurice is next, and Aila throws her arms around her neck. She’d invited him, but Louis had told her not to get her hopes up—Maurice and Noali kept to themselves, away from the goings-on of Niall’s business. Yet here he is with his wife only feet away. She thanks him for coming, tells him it means the world to her. It does. He protected her before, and now he’s come to the happiest day of her life.

“I’m surprised Bobby’s allowing Ashton and the others to be in the house,” Aila comments lightly to Tania twenty minutes later. She watches her grandmother and Robert dance slowly in the shadowy recesses, unseen by any others.

Tania shrugs, sipping at her rum and soda. “Niall explained he was helping eliminate a threat. Besides, it’s easier to keep an eye on him when we’re working together.”

The women watch everyone dancing and celebrating for a long while. Theo sits on Bobby’s shoulder, arms waving in the air to the fast-paced song the band plays. Paze and Willow dance with each other and only take breaks to sip their champagne. Cheyenne stays off in a corner with Jenna, and what they do is certainly not appropriate for a setting like this. Robert and Celine share a kiss before he bows from the ballroom.

Angel...

“Hey, T? Do you know that man?”

“No,” Tania says with a shake of her head. “Thought he was someone you invited.”

“I only invited my parents and my friends.”

“Wait here.”

Tania disappears through the crowd before Aila can say another word. Aila swallows a mouthful of champagne as she sways to the music. The man must have noticed her attention, and that she’s now alone, because he bows to Angel. Aila watches as he approaches.

“My congratulations to the gorgeous bride,” he says with a dip of his chin, and she plasters a smile onto her face.

“Thank you. It’s much appreciated. Although I must admit, I don’t recognise you. I’m sure we’ve met before, but I’ve never been good with faces.”

“No, ma’am, we’ve not met before. I’m here with Mister Irwin.”

“Oh! Well, he’s right over there if you want to spend more time with your... friend,” she says, pointing toward where Ashton stands on the balcony.

“If I didn’t know better,” the man murmurs as he steps closer, “I’d say you were trying to escape this conversation. I only wonder why.”

“Of course I’m not. I simply assumed you’d want to talk to a friend instead of a perfect stranger.”

“But our discussion is much more entertaining than anything Irwin could ever say.” His gaze skims over her body before snapping back to her face. “Why—?”

Bobby pops up beside them, and Aila could kiss him with gratitude for his timing. “Is there a problem here?”

“This gentleman here was just offering his congratulations, that’s all.”

Her father-in-law’s smile is cold. Sharper than any smile Niall ever gave. “On behalf of my son and his wife, we thank you. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to take a spin on the dance floor with my daughter-in-law.”

“By all means. Mrs Horan, we can finish our talk later.”

Bobby raises a brow before taking Aila’s hand. She follows him into the middle of the dance floor, knowing he’s using the wall of guests as protection. His hand rests on her lower back, the other gripping hers tightly. She lets him lead as they dance.

“What was that about?”

Aila explains the weird feeling she got from the man, how she hadn’t recognised him twirling Angel around the floor. When Bobby spins her, she sees the man being escorted from the ballroom with Niall, Tania and Zayn inches behind. She ducks her head and steps back into Bobby’s space.

“Seems as if the trouble has disappeared.”

Bobby shakes his head, leaning in to speak into her ear, “Don’t drink or eat anything you’ve not gotten yourself or that Niall hasn’t given to you.”

“You don’t think he would have tampered with everything?”

“No. No one would be foolish enough to kill this many people.” Bobby glances over her shoulder, and she turns her head to see Maura watching them. “Plus, Robert and Porter stood over the catering all day. I trust them both with my life.”

“High praise coming from a a man of your standing,” she laughs, and his smile is warmer than usual.

“Niall has explained how Robert came about, yeah?”

Aila hesitates then admits Robert told her he’s been working for the Horans since Niall was a young child. How he’s watched Niall grow from an innocent kid to the man he is today. How proud Robert is of who Niall has become. Bobby’s frown grows the longer she talks.

“He stepped out of line.”

“No! He hasn’t. I, uh, I asked. He only answered my question. And honestly, Bobby, he’s been one of the reasons I’ve not lost my mind yet. Please don’t punish him for it.”

“Consider it my wedding gift to you,” he jokes, winking quickly. “I know I haven’t always been… supportive, I suppose is fair to say. I was—.”

“I understand. You saw the potential dangers and wanted to keep me safe. I truly appreciate that. Just know… Please understand that I love your son with my entire heart, and I will do everything I can to protect him as much as he protects me.”

Bobby nods slowly then looks off to his right. “Speak of the devil. I suppose I should let him have a dance with his wife. Aila? I really am thankful you stayed even after you learnt the truth.”

“So am I,” she whispers as she blinks back tears.

Niall kisses her as soon as he can, and Aila giggles against his lips. “Come with me, love.”

She does. She will always follow him where he leads. And right now, he guides her up the stairs to their bedroom. His hands are careful, gentle, as he unzips her dress. She watches his eyes darken at the very obvious lack of underwear, then he’s kissing her again. Aila gasps when his hand slides between her legs, barely stroking against her before a finger slides into her. Despite her ache to be filled, she pulls away.

“You are not fucking me, Mister Horan.”

“Really? Not on our wedding night, Mrs Horan?”

God, say that again. “Nope.” She nips at his bottom lip, sucks it between her teeth and flicks it with her tongue. “Tonight? You make love to me.”

Niall nods without hesitation, and Aila steps back when he steps against her. True to his silent agreement, he takes his time tearing her apart. His hands and tongue work in tandem to bring her to and over the edge. She kisses him, tastes herself on her tongue, as she straddles his lap. His cock fits so perfectly inside of her, and he holds her tightly as she moves. The hair on his chest scrapes against her breasts, but it only adds to the sensations. The emotions filling her like he does.

She never thought being married could feel like this. She never imagined being loved could ever turn her world completely inside-out in the most glorious of ways. Aila buries her face against his throat, murmurs her ‘I love you’s into his skin, and her world shatters as he comes with a low groan of her name.