#foil embossing near me

[twentyyearstoolate]

2:03 AM. Last call at O'Hannigan's to cap off possibly the worst day of your life. You ran out of milk, your shitty beater wouldn't start, you had to beg for a ride to work, your jerk boss chewed you out for ten minutes for being late, and while you were having an ugly cry in the bathroom, your space heater gave up the ghost in spectacular fashion, catching your whole cube on fire, and shutting the office down. You almost got pasted by some maniac on the way to a cafe, and you had to submit your quarterly from your phone with what little you had backed up on the cloud, which you're sure is going to get you shitcanned at the end of the month, if the whole fire thing doesn't. You'd thank god it's Friday but you're pretty sure god is punishing you. You step out into the cool night air, the sweat beading on your brow. At least you've still got a good buzz going.

Not five paces out of the bar, phone out for an Uber, You hear a click behind you and something presses into the small of your back. "Hands up, asshole."

Oh boy. Suddenly, your bad day just got a whole lot worse. You follow the order as your assailant pushes you into an alley. "Look, my wallet's in the front pocket. Just, uh, let me keep my ID please?"

"I don't want your money, murderer!"

The accusation sobers you up a bit. "Did... did you say 'murderer?'"

"Our last supercomputer determined that two years from now, a series of events causes a near-extinction level event that sets humanity back ten-thousand years, and that you are the first domino in that chain. We travel back in time and kill you, we save the world."

"Now, now hang on, I've never killed anybody, I don't even- Wait, what? 'Back in time?'"

"Planetary Defense Squadron - Chronology Department. Don't act like you don't know, you've thwarted every single one of our attempts so far. We had our suspicions all morning, when you oh-so-conveniently dodged the cyanide in your cereal and the sabotaged fuel line on your car. But we knew you were onto us when you managed to avoid being incinerated and gave us the slip in the process. Thankfully I picked up the trail again. I see right through your ploy - Very clever, waiting out the night in a bar to give yourself a reason to avoid going to a home pumped full of carbon monoxide. Nobody would have suspected a thing. You've evaded your well-deserved death at every turn. But your luck's run out. I don't know how you found out about us, but you're not wriggling your way out of this one. This ends here and now. Any last words?"

Suddenly, something clicks. Maybe it's the beer talking, or your incredulity at the idea that you've inadvertently foiled an assassination plot, or the fact that your luck's been shit all day, but in spite of it all, you can't help but be annoyed. "Wait a minute... So you're the fuckers who almost ran me over!"

The assassin is confused. "What? No. We-"

A loud CRACK sounds from above, as the brackets on an AC unit fail, and it plummets swiftly, missing you by mere inches. Your attacker doesn't fare as well - You hear them crumple in a heap behind you.

You turn around - It's a gruesome sight, head cracked open like an egg. They're dressed in common clothes, but underneath is something akin to a bulletproof vest. You rifle through their pockets. Sure enough, a badge with a geometric clock emblem, embossed with the words "Chronology Dept." And some notes on you - your name, face, blood type. Your schedule, where you work, where you live, your favorite haunts. It's all there.

You, the destroyer of humanity? Seems unlikely. But you're not sticking around to get murdered by some psyop nutjobs. You're getting a cheap motel and a bus ticket out of here first thing in the morning.

---

Two years later

"Thank you, come again!"

The door dings as a patron leaves. You look out the window of the convenience store. The desert stretches on for miles.

It wasn't easy, uprooting your entire life, but you managed it. A different name, a different place, a whole different life. You settled into the most boring, least impactful job you could think of - a clerk, at a gas station in practically the middle of nowhere. Certainly it'd be impossible to bring about an apocalypse here, right?

You've done your best not to dwell on it for the last couple of years. You start facing the snack shelves, getting ready to lock up for the day, when the door dings again.

"Hey there, welcome!"

You stand up and walk behind the counter. The customer, dressed in an ACU, grabs a soda and a bag of chips, and sets them on the counter.

"Find everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I think I got turned around a little, do you know where Fort Broggard is?"

"Oh yeah, no, the roads are a little wonky out this way, maps don't give the right directions, you take a left out of here and then the third exit on the roundabout, follow that for about five miles, and then take a right on 54th and another left about two miles in."

"Appreciate it. Keep the change." They slide a five across the counter. You deposit it and drop the change in the tips jar.

"Sure, thanks, come again!" The door dings once more, and you finish facing the shelves, mop the floor, count your till, and lock up for the evening. You can already hear a cold one calling your name at home.

It's only when you step out into the fading summer sun to haul trash bags to the dumpster that you realize something's wrong. Sirens in the distance... towards Fort Broggard.

You squint your eyes and look out as the very hills seem to part. A salvo of missiles poke their heads out from the ground, before launching high into the air. You turn on the radio to the sound of a somber announcement, and advisories to find shelter.

"...Goddamnit."

Sometime in the future you do something that nearly wipes out human civilization. Time travelers have attempted to stop you by ending your life, but somehow, unknowingly, you have managed to dodge all of their attempts. Finally, one time traveler has decided to confront you directly.

[vimalpackaging]

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This draft provides a strong foundation for the blog. If you packaging in noida need additional sections or expansions on any of the topics, let me vimal packaging know!

[blogbeatsever]

Transform Your Business with Top-notch Printing Services in Old Bridge & Plainfield

In this fast-paced digital age, where screens dominate our lives, the power of high-quality printed materials remains unrivaled. Whether you are running a local business or working as a graphic designer, the tangible impact of a beautifully printed piece cannot be overstated. This blog post will guide you through mastering the art of printing, emphasizing the importance of quality printing services near me in Old Bridge and Plainfield.

The Importance of Quality Printing in a Digital Age

Despite the digital boom, physical printed materials still hold significant value. They provide a tactile experience, create lasting impressions, and add a personal touch that digital media often lacks. For local businesses and graphic designers, high-quality prints can differentiate your brand from the competition and convey professionalism and attention to detail.

Investing in top-notch printing services can enhance your marketing efforts, making your brand more memorable. From business cards to brochures, the quality of your printed materials reflects your business's standards. Let's explore how you can achieve perfection with printing services in Old Bridge and Plainfield.

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Before diving into the world of printing, it’s crucial to understand your specific needs. Local businesses might require different materials than graphic designers. Tailoring your printing services to your unique requirements ensures you get the most out of your investment.

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Local Café

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A Boutique

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A Real Estate Agency

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Utilize Professional Design

Invest in professional design services to create eye-catching and effective printed materials. A well-designed piece can communicate your message more effectively and leave

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In today’s digital world, the tactile and personal nature of printed materials remains irreplaceable. For local businesses and graphic designers, partnering with quality printing services in Old Bridge and printing services near me in Plainfield can elevate your brand and enhance your marketing efforts. Don’t underestimate the power of a beautifully printed piece—embrace it as a crucial tool in your business’s success.

[voguehomeinvitations]

Vogue Home Invitations

Website: https://www.voguehomeinvitations.com

Address : Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Vogue Home Invitations, a Toronto-based business, specializes in creating beautiful and unique wedding invitations. They offer a wide range of designs, including foil-stamped printing and a variety of templates. Their collection includes modern, eco-friendly, glamorous, and elite designs, catering to diverse tastes and themes. They also provide custom invitation services, accommodating specific design requests and personalization. Vogue Home Invitations is dedicated to making the first impression of your special day memorable with their exquisite invitation designs.

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[bestcustomluxuryboxes]

How Luxury Cardboard Boxes Elevate Your Cosmetic Brand

Cardboard being the custom luxury packaging material as earned immense popularity across several industries. When it comes to selling beauty products, you have to be conscious about their packaging because these delicate items require a safe box. Moreover, most of the customers made their purchasing decision by seeing the quality of packaging. 

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If you look for cardboard boxes manufacturers near me you can see many of them that offer custom cosmetic boxes with innovative and creative designs distinguish your brand from the rest. They offer customization, which helps you design the boxes your way according to your desire and the specifications of the product. You can go for excellent printing and mesmerizing designs with vibrant colours that the customer experience never before.

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Conclusion 

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[luveline]

Hii can we get some shy reader x rockstar Sirius please?? Like literally anything idc

hiii yes u can tysm for ur request here is rockstar sirius getting a gift for his shy!gf ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1.1k words

You're sitting on the edge of the stage with your headphones in when a book is dropped carefully into your lap. You look up before you've even glanced at the book and smile when you see who it is that dropped it, pulling out your headphones and pocketing them clumsily.

Sirius' smile in return is much too smug for your liking.

You turn your sights back on the book, and then you gasp loudly. Really loudly.

The stadium isn't small enough to carry an echo but you think you might have managed it, and you're flushed with an embarrassed heat even as you say, "Oh my god, Siri, where did you get this? How did you get this?" 

His smugness grows. To call him Siri in public, to talk so openly, he knows you're excited. "I asked for it." 

Of course he did. Sirius could ask for a gold-plated lobster and within half an hour he'd have one. But…

"This doesn't come out for another month," you say in awe. 

Sirius sits down beside you. He doesn't look nearly as made up as he will tonight for the show. His hair is clean and in a bobble, a small bun against his neck. His clothes are nowhere near as flashy as his usual stage get up, and there's not a drop or pinch of makeup on him. He's the Sirius you know best like this. 

You take his hand. He beams at you, an honest to God beam, all apple cheeked and eyes squinting.

You can't hold it for long, excited to crack open your new treasure and peel off the dust jacket. Underneath, the hardcover has been embossed and foiled with dainty silver flowers. You trail your fingertips over them and read the slanting script of the novel's title and author on the spine.

"I can't believe you got this for me," you utter. It's an extremely limited edition.

"Of course I got it for you." 

A volley of wheels roll across the floor behind you. Soon, the stage will be a cacophony of sounds. Guitars tuned, mic stands greased, sound check.

You love sound check. The band performs for you and a handful of others, but Sirius performs for you alone. You're not stupid enough to think otherwise. And you're his biggest fan. Sometimes, emboldened by his too-cool smile, you even wolf whistle. 

"It wasn't a matter of if, but when." 

"Baby," you murmur, looking around to make sure no one has heard you be outwardly affectionate, "how did you get this? Seriously." 

He bumps his knee against yours. "I really did ask for it. I- Well, I made James beg Lily for the publishing house's director's number. I knew she had it, they did the biography for Marlene McKinnon last year." 

"And she just gave it to you?" 

"No, she fucking didn't. I had to swear on my life I wouldn't say anything crass." 

"And you- what, you called him?" 

Sirius' smile turns shark-tooth. "I called him." 

You set the book carefully on the stage floor and ease your thigh to his, more close than you'd usually ever allow yourself to be in public with him. Any public displays of affection beyond hand-holding are far from your style. 

If Sirius is surprised he doesn't show it. He leans toward you with his hand behind you, arm brushing the small of your back. "Actually, I had to give him tickets for his daughters. For the whole tour." 

You gawp at him. He laughs and inclines his head, his nose inching closer and closer to your own, though he won't kiss you in front of people because he knows you don't like it.

He's so pretty and he's always doing stuff like this – Sirius doesn't just give gifts, he gives thoughtful, amazing presents that sometimes feel impossible to comprehend. 

You close your eyes and lean in until the tip of your nose bumps his. 

"Thank you." 

His hand slowly, so slowly, finds your waist. "You're welcome." 

You take a deep breath and pull away from him. He doesn't look disappointed. He knows he'll get a kiss later in private. Or you hope that he knows that. Actually, you're not sure. 

"I owe you a kiss," you promise.

He laughs, startled. It's a good look on him: the slight flaring of dark lashes, the subtle purse of his lips. "You do?" 

You drop your cheek to your shoulder, eyes on his chest and the tattered shirt he wears. It might as well be Prada for how good it looks on him. 

"I really love you," you murmur.

He ducks his head to catch your shy gaze. "I'll leave you to start your book."

Sirius stands. You're shocked at him. He never misses an opportunity to say he loves you. His rejection stings sudden and unexpected. 

He looks over his shoulder as he's walking away and blinks at your gutted expression. "Open your book," he calls. 

You frown and open it, heart bumping an unsteady rhythm. 

Sirius has written a short message on the first page in weeping dark biro. The words are smudged – your boyfriend is left-handed – but easily decipherable. 

I love you. SB

He blows you a kiss. You stand up before he can leave and hurry across the stage, almost dropping your new book as you collide with his side and throw your arms around him. 

He huffs a laugh and wraps you up tightly. "If this is how you'll react every time, I'm gonna get you a library's worth of books." 

You shake your head. It's not about the book, really. 

"Sweetheart," he says, softer, "I love you, okay?" 

"I love you," you say, clutching him so tightly it must hurt.

"I know…" He kisses your head and then pries your head from his shoulder with a cautious look. "There's a lot of people watching us right now." 

You burst into flames. Or, it feels like it. Sirius laughs and drags you out of the public eye, fanning your heated cheeks with a cooing sort of sympathy. "Poor girl. What am I gonna do with you?" 

"Stop buying me presents," you say decidedly. What you mean to say is, Stop making me love you enough to forget where I am, and to forget how shy I am. 

He gives you a look. It says, simply, That's not happening. 

You hide in his side all the way to the dressing room. He's ecstatic. 

[angelasscribbles]

Maximum Damage (A Bad Romance AU)

Series: What If

Original Series: Bad Romance

Bad Romance One-Shots

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Liam x Max, Riley x Max, Riley x Drake (Past)

Rating: MA and NSFW. There are🍋’s but that’s not the main issue, please read the trigger warnings before deciding if you want to read this.

Warnings for this chapter: Major character deaths, graphic description, traumatic birth, premature birth, car accident, suicide, emotional trauma.  

Song Inspiration: There are two for this chapter, both are by Imagine Dragons. Drake’s song is Dull Knives and Liam’s song is Waves.

Word Count: 12,612

A/N: I have never posted a chapter or a one-shot this long. I generally break chapters in two if they get close to 5k words. One-shots turn into two or three-shots or whole ass miniseries, but it just felt wrong to split this one. I didn’t want anyone waiting for the next installment, I feel like the emotional impact is stronger if it’s read all at once. And I apologize for what @21wishes has referred to as the emotional carnage I have unleashed here. This isn’t where I expected this story to go when I started it, but stories sometimes take on a life of their own and trust me, I broke my own heart along the way. There are no happy endings here, so please proceed with caution.

Special shoutout to @karahalloway @dcbbw @harleybeaumont @21wishes for doing one or more of the following: prereading snippets, bouncing ideas with me, listening to me rant about this, giving general emotional support for my self inflicted trauma and mostly for not blocking and deleting me for this fic.

My other stuff: Master List.

Cordonia……

“What is it?” Max rounded the corner, out of breath, “I got here as fast as I could!”

Max was brought up short by the sight in the front of him and the sounds issuing from the bedroom. Liam was sitting on the couch in the living room of his private quarters, head clutched in his hands, fingers tearing at his hair. When he lifted his eyes, they were red rimmed, his usually perfectly pressed shirt was rumpled, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his hair, generally perfectly coiffed, was in disarray. He looked like he’d been on a three day bender, but he’d been perfectly fine that morning.

As bad as the sight of distressed Liam was, the sounds issuing from the bedroom were worse. Shrill wailing, a sound like a wounded, and dying, animal pierced the air. Max’s heart leapt in panic, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Liam reached onto the coffee table in front of him and lifted a rectangular piece of paper, thrusting it into the other man’s hands. Max glanced down at the gold foil embossed cream colored cardstock. His eyes scanned down it an attempt to decipher how it was connected to the heart rending sounds Riley was making from the other room.

It was a save the date card. For a wedding. As he read the curling, gold script, his heart sank to the bottom of his feet, “Oh no.”

“Please save the date.” The card read, “For the wedding celebration of Kiara Theron and Drake Walker.” There was a date and a location with the promise of a formal invitation to follow.

“I don’t know what to do, Max.” Liam’s voice cracked, “Nothing I do helps. She won’t let me near her! I’ve never seen her like this!”

“It’s ok, Liam, I’ll go calm her down.” Max hoped he sounded more confidant in that declaration than he felt.

Liam’s shoulders sagged with relief as he grabbed Max and pulled him into a hug so tight, it forced the air from his body, “Thank you.” He sobbed into Max’s shoulder.

Max returned Liam’s embrace, “Hey, it’s going to be ok.”

Liam sobbed into Max’s shoulder, “I should have done more to keep him from leaving in the first place! I should have gone after him-“

“You tried.” Max comforted him, “You went after him at the cabin, and he said no.”

“I should have gone to Texas, I was going to, but things kept coming up and I kept putting it off.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference; his mind was made up.”

“You don’t know that. What if everything would have been different?”

“You can’t think like that, Li.”

The door slammed as Riley emerged from the bedroom.

“Riley, do you want to talk about it?” Max asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She told him, “He’s not going to marry her! He doesn’t love her, he loves me!”

Max and Liam exchanged a look. Riley had been insisting that Drake was coming back ever since he’d left six months ago. “Riley, love, it might time to accept that-“

She whirled on him, “Shut up, Liam, just shut up! I don’t want to hear your opinion right now!” She stormed out of their room.

“Where is she going?” Liam looked at Max.

“I’ll find out!” Max leapt out the door and followed her down the hall.

Riley stormed through the palace toward the guard offices. Drake wasn’t answering her calls or returning her texts. She had been so certain he was coming back. She had waited too long, that’s what happened. She should have reached out to him before now. There was no way he was marrying Kiara. Right? She felt uncertainty twist in her gut. Why wouldn’t he answer his phone? He had always answered for her. But she hadn’t called, hadn’t texted him in six months. She’d written him letters, at first, but they’d all gone unanswered, so she’d stopped. She’d been trying to give him time, space, but he must have interpreted that as neglect, indifference, that’s what had happened. He thought she didn’t love him anymore, she just had to reassure him that she did, that’s all.

“Jason!” Riley slammed through the door of the cyber security office.

The blond lieutenant almost jumped out of his chair, his feet clattering to the floor as he sat upright and pulled them off the top the desk where they’d been propped, “Yes, your majesty? What’s wrong?”

“I need Captain Walkers location right now! Do whatever you have to do! Trace his phone, hack his social media or the GPS on his car! I need to know where he’s at yesterday!”     

“Um…ok….but-“

“But? But? Are you refusing a direct order from your queen?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then what’s the but for?”

“I was just going to say there’s no need for all of that. I already know where he’s at.”

Riley blinked, “You do? How?”

“Yes. We keep in touch. I spoke to him two days ago. He’s in New York.”

New York……

Drake sat on the edge of the bed staring at his phone screen. His heart was in his throat. Riley!

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he tried to formulate a response. Why was she texting him? How did she know about the wedding?

All his questions were answered a minute later when a text from Max popped up on his phone.

He stared down on his screen in disbelief then typed one last message before jumping up from the bed and storming into the living room.

Drake waved his phone in front of Kiara’s face, “You sent her a save the date card, Ki? What the hell?”

“Excuse me?”

He sat the phone on the counter and shoved it toward her with Max’s message open. “You sent Riley a save the date card? Why would you do that?”

“Don’t you want her to be happy for us? For you? Besides, Liam is your best friend, of course I sent-“

“Oh, bullshit! You just wanted to rub it in Riley’s face! And why the fuck do we have save the date cards, Ki? Huh? We haven’t even picked a venue yet!”

“The Château d'Esclimont just outside of Paris-“

“Paris? Wait, the The Château d'Esclimont…” He searched his memory, “Is that a fucking castle?!”

“Yes, but-“

“We are not getting married in a fucking castle!”

“I already sent the deposit! It’s nonrefundable!”

“Without talking to me first?” He was irate, “I wanted a simple ceremony by the side of a damn pond or something! Maybe even at the ranch in Texas without fanfare or a lot of guests and you know that! I don’t want a fancy wedding but here you are sending out all these cards I didn’t even know about, and you already booked the venue without consulting me!”

“Oh, but I know you’ll love it, once you see it! Besides, there wasn’t time, if we wanted the date, we had to move fast!”

“We? If we wanted the date? You mean you, right, because I wasn’t involved in this decision at all!”

“Drake, it’s my wedding too and I don’t want to get married by a goddamn pond or on a fucking farm!”

“First of all, it’s a ranch-“

“If you’ll just give it a chance, it'll grow on you, you haven’t even seen it yet!”

“We said we were going to talk about these things, compromise a little, meet in the middle-“

“I would discuss these things with you if you were ever reasonable about any of them!”

“You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care!”

A message notification dinged, and Kiara glanced down at Drake’s phone screen. It was text message from Riley.

“Why the hell is there a heart next to her name, Drake?”

“What?”

“You heard me, why the fuck is there a heart next to Riley’s name in your phone?”

“Of for the love of….” He grabbed the phone off the counter and shoved it in his pocket, “I just never changed it ok? You know I was in a relationship with her before you and I-“

“Yeah, before you and I. We’re fucking engaged, Drake, engaged and you still have a heart next to your ex-girlfriend’s name!”

“That doesn’t mean anything, I forgot it was there, I haven’t looked at that contact in months!” That was a lie. He’d lost count of how many nights he’d swiped her contact open then sat and stared at his phone, fingers hovering over the screen, sometimes even typing out, then deleting messages. How many messages had he typed and never sent? I love you, I miss you, I want to come home. Then he’d remind himself that she chose another man, married another man, delete the text and pour a glass of whiskey instead.

Kiara had definitely known about his feelings for Riley when they had reconnected over social media. She hadn’t used his depression and vulnerability to manipulate the situation, had she?

She had been stationed in New York at the Cordonian Embassy, and she’d gone to San Antonio on a girl’s weekend. Since they’d been talking on social media, she had known San Antonio was close to the ranch and invited him out for a drink. One thing had led to another and the next thing he knew, he was moving to New York to be with her. He hadn’t wanted a relationship; it had been the last thing he’d wanted actually. But he’d been lonely, hurting and homesick.

Now somehow, here he was, engaged. The closer it got to the wedding the more agitated he became. He had never wanted to get married, not even to Riley. What the fuck was he doing?

She had proposed to him. After sex when he had his guard down and he’d still been raw from the breakup with Riley. He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed. Maybe it was because he was never going to have the woman he really wanted, the only one that had ever held his heart in her hands, so why not? And if marrying the woman Riley hated most in the world stuck it to her a little bit, then that was a fringe benefit.

Riley had held his beating heart in her bare hands, and she’d crushed it. She’d destroyed it and destroyed him. So why the hell not marry the girl who actually wanted him? Wanted him just for himself, not what she could get out of him, not for whatever part he could play in her power scheme. To Riley, he’d been just a cog in her machine. She’d wanted him for his ability as a soldier, for his professional qualifications, to shore up her power base. That’s what he kept telling himself.                  

Kiara wanted him just for him. Or at least that’s what he’d thought at the time. But she’d almost immediately started trying to turn him into someone he wasn’t.

“I bought you some new clothes.”

“Why? What's wrong with my old ones?”

“Nothing, just thought you could use some new ones.”

“These don’t look like something I’d wear.”

“Oh, but you’ll look so sexy in this! This color really compliments your eyes!”

“My eyes don’t need complimenting.”

“Why are you acting like this? It's just a suit, what's the big deal?”

“There’s no big deal, I just don’t like it.”

“Come on, baby, wear it just this once, for me? Please? We're going to a fancy restaurant. It’s for my job, this is important to me.“ She wheedled as she ran her fingers up his chest.

“Fine. I’ll wear the button up, maybe the jacket, but not the tie. That tie is hideous.”

“But you need to fit in, Drake. My boss will be there, along with a bunch of diplomats. Just do it for me, please? Don't embarrass me. It’s just a fucking tie. Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Am I not good enough for you the way I am, Ki?” Riley had never given a shit what he wore.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you are, but this is a work function! I'm just asking you to fit in for one fucking night! I do shit I don’t like for you all the goddamn time!”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know! Like going to a rodeo, Drake, an actual fucking rodeo, with cows and dirt! Eating BBQ, I mean…what the fuck is it actually? Does anyone know? I’ve gone hiking, I’ve gone to trivia night, fucking trivia night!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize spending time with me was such a fucking chore!”

“Stop being dramatic. I did it for you. You can do this for me. Wear the fucking tie!”

He understood that she wanted him physically, but she didn’t seem to have the first clue who he really was. She was too busy trying to make him more like the noblemen she was used to dating. And he hated it. There was no way he could marry her, right?

New York, two days later….

A knocking on the door pulled him from a sound sleep. He blinked at the clock. It was five o’clock in the goddamn morning. What the hell?

“I’m coming!” He shouted as he stumbled to the door and pulled it open.

“Riley!” He stood frozen to the spot in shock, suddenly wide awake.

“Why do you look so surprised? I told you that if you didn’t answer the goddamn phone, I was coming to you!” She shoved her way into the room.

“I… didn’t think you meant it.” He pushed the door closed as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. She was here, in his apartment and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. But he wouldn’t….he couldn’t.

“I have never said anything to you that I didn’t fucking mean, Drake!”

“Well, we both know that’s not true.” What the hell was he doing? He drug a hand through his hair as panic sliced through him. She was standing right there, after six long months of missing her, wanting her, loving her, and instead of pulling her into his arms, he was being pissy.

“Really? That’s how it’s going to be?” Fire snapped in her eyes.

“I don’t know what you want! It’s five o’clock in the fucking morning! Why are you even here? Where’s your husband?” He asked bitterly.

“How the fuck could you get engaged to her, Drake? To her, of all people!”

Had she flown across an ocean just to pick a fight with him? It  didn’t matter that he’d been asking himself that same question before she showed up at his door, she had no right to ask it. “She was there for me after you married my best friend! She picked up the pieces of me that you destroyed, Riley!”

He’d been ready to call off the engagement with Kiara, but seeing Riley again just drove home all the reasons he needed something, anything to focus on that wasn’t her.

“You don’t love her.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t! I know you don’t!”

“You don’t know anything about me. Not anymore.”

“Yes, I do. I know you, Drake, I know you!”

He shook his head resolutely, “Not. Anymore.”

“We could run away together, like you wanted to!”

“Little late for that,” He scoffed, “Did you forget you’re married now?”

“I’ll leave him.”

“What?” His head snapped up, and he fought to tamp down the little flare of hope that flashed through him. Hope was only a set up for disappointment and pain.

“You heard me….I’ll leave Liam.”

His jaw clenched tightly as he gritted out, “I’ve heard that lie before.”

“It’s not a lie, I love you!”

That was exactly what she’d said before she amended the goddamn marriage contract that she could have terminated. “If you truly love me, then just go and let me be happy.”

“But you’re not happy, Drake, you’re not!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drake, please, just…” She stepped forward, reaching for him. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He pulled them down and pushed her gently away as he took a step back. “Don’t.”

He watched as confusion swept across her face. Right. Because she’d always been able to sway him with sex before. But he was stronger now. He wasn’t going to give in to that manipulation.

“You don’t want me to touch you?” She sounded hurt, confused.

“You’re just mad because you can’t manipulate me anymore, can’t bend me to your will and use me for your own ends!” He shouted at her.

Her reaction shattered everything he though he knew. She didn’t get mad. He’d expected her to rage, break things, scream at him, call him stupid.

She looked like she’d been slapped. Her body physically jerked back when he said it. Her eyes widened, bigger than he’d ever seen them. Tears welled up in them. Shocked disbelief and something else flitted across her face. Heartbreak. It looked like heartbreak. Her voice shook and he could barely hear her as she whispered, “Is that what you think?”

Well, it had been. That had been his assumption from the moment she’d told him she had amended the marriage contract with Liam instead of breaking it. What else was he supposed to think? But that response stuck in his throat as he took in the devastation he clearly saw in her eyes, “Riley…”

“Oh my god. It is!” Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as the tears started to spill down her cheeks. Her body twisted like she was turning to leave at the same time that her knees buckled, and she slowly dropped to the floor, collapsing in a heap as her head dropped down and her hands came up to cover her eyes. Great, heaving sobs shook her body, she made a noise like a scream but with almost no sound, a whisper scream, but it ripped at his heart.

He'd only seen her cry like that once. After Tariq. He forgot all the reasons he was supposed to keep his distance from her as he dropped to ground next to her and tried to take her in his arms.

She jerked away from him, “Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me unless you mean it!”

“I don’t understand what you want from me!” He cried in pain and confusion.

She looked up at him, her face tear streaked, “You hate me, don’t you? You actually hate me! You never believed in me, and you really were never coming back! Liam and Max were right, you weren’t coming back, and I’m the one that’s stupid! God, I love you so much, even now and you love her! Did you ever love me at all, Drake?”

“Riley-“ His voice broke as the tidal wave of emotions he’d been keeping at bay for months pushed against the crumbling wall of his resistance.

“I hate her, Drake, I hate her, and I hate you! I’ll never fucking forgive you for this, never!”

The agony in her voice was breaking him, the deep, gulping sobs, the heart-rending tone in her tears, were the sounds of grief, raw and fresh. He recognized it. He understood grief only too well.

What he didn’t understand was why. She’d married Liam, she’d chosen Liam. And she had Max to boot. She didn’t actually love him, if she did, she would have terminated that contract and left Cordonia with him.

He didn’t understand her at all, but her pain was breaking him. He reached for her again, “Riley, please-“

“Get off me, Drake!” She screamed at him as she shoved him away, “All you’ve ever done is push me away and hurt me! Marry that fucking bitch then, I hope you’re both fucking miserable!”

She jumped up off the ground and ran out the door. And he let her.

Riley cried as she stumbled out the door and ran into her bodyguard.

“Are you ok Your Majesty?” Marco caught her in his arms, his glance going to Drake’s door then back to his charge.

“Just get me out of here, Marco, please.” She sobbed into her hands.

“Of course!” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her down the hall as he motioned for the rest of the team to go ahead and clear the way.

She gave the driver instructions to take her straight back to the airport. What was the point of staying? He didn’t love her anymore; he’d make that abundantly clear. He’d rejected her, again. Even after she’d offered to leave her husband.

Maybe she could leave Liam, but could she leave Max? Max had never hurt her. All Drake did was hurt her. Liam hurt her; Drake hurt her. Max picked up the pieces. Max glued her back together time and time again. 

She needed Max. She needed to get back home to the one man who would glue all her broken pieces back together. The man who never shied away from her brokenness, no matter how raw or how deep her pain got. She pushed the intercom button and told the driver to hurry then she collapsed into the seat and cried.

France, six months later….

“You came.”

“Of course I came, Drake. You’re my best friend.” Liam gave him an awkward smile. They hadn’t really talked since the day in the cabin when Liam had tried to make Drake see reason. But he was still his best friend, and he was getting married.

Drake pulled at his collar, looked away then back at Liam, “Uh…did….Riley come?”

Liam had been rocking back and forth on his feet. He stilled as he gave Drake a searching look, “No.”

She was there, in Paris, back at the hotel. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to attend the ceremony. She’d insisted that he go without her. But he wasn’t telling Drake that.

“Oh, ah….Is everything okay?”

“No, Drake, nothing has been ok since you left.”

“What do you mean?” He asked in surprise.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? Why don’t you tell me? What the hell happened in New York?”

Drake looked away. “Nothing happened in New York! I mean, we talked, she wasn’t there for very long….”

“Yeah, well, she came back destroyed, Drake. Fucking destroyed!”

His gaze shot back to Liam, startled, “Why?”

“Why? Are you really that dense?”

“I got out of your way, Liam. That should make you happy.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“So, what are you trying to say? That you have marital problems because I didn’t stay and commit adultery?”

“Yes, Drake! That’s what I’m saying! Is that what you want to hear? That my marriage is in shambles because my wife is in love with you!?”

“No. She’s in love with you! Besides, when you came to the cabin and tried to talk me into coming back, you said you understood that she could love more than one person, because you loved her and Max!”

“Yes, but that’s when I thought she loved me too! After all of the hell we went through to be together, I never thought I’d question if it was worth it. I always believe that no matter what, she loved me, and I don’t anymore! She blames me, she fucking blames me for the marriage contract, for purposely coming between the two of you, which I did! All of it. She blames me for losing you and she’ll never forgive me for it!”

“She loves you, Li-“ Drake whispered hoarsely.

“If she loves me, why can’t she be happy with me, huh? The only reason I haven’t offered her the divorce that she clearly wants is because I’m afraid Max will go with her. Then I’ll have nothing and nobody.”

“That’s not going to happen. She loves you. They both do.”

A frustrated laugh escaped Liam’s lips.

“What?” Drake asked, perplexed.

“The fucking irony that you can understand Riley and Max loving each other and me and you can grasp me loving both of them, but you can’t see that she loves you too.”

“I…” Drake stared at his best friend for a long moment, then shook his head, “I can’t do this right now. I’m getting married in five minutes!”

“You sure about that?” Liam asked him.

“Yes, I’m sure about that.” He had never been less sure about anything in his life.

He stood at the altar, palms sweaty, nervously shifting from foot to foot. He pulled at his collar, his skin was itchy, everywhere. He wanted to scratch at it, he could feel it crawling, like there was a million stinging ants covering his body. He twitched, fighting the urge to rip off the tuxedo and claw himself bloody. How in the name of fucking hell had he gotten here?

He kept waiting for the moment everyone told him would come. That moment when the wedding day jitters calmed down and he realized the rightness of his decision. When his love for this woman overcame the nerves and the doubts.

He kept waiting, but it never happened and as he watched her appear at the top of the aisle, he realized with startling clarity that it was never going to happen. It was never going to happen because he didn’t love this woman. He loved Riley! He barely even liked Kiara. They were too different, too wrong for each other, too far apart in their beliefs, ideas and values about everything. There was no way it was ever going to work.

He felt claustrophobic, like the walls of the castle were closing in on him. His heart started to race, and he struggled to breath. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

He couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t. But she was halfway down the aisle, smiling at him like he was her whole world and her entire family, and his, had traveled to fucking Paris for this atrocity of a wedding. This completely over the top, ridiculous, monstrosity of a wedding. In a fucking castle no less. He hated every single detail about this wedding, from the destination to the floral arrangements to the fucking gold embroidered linen napkins.

This wedding was a nightmare. His life with Kiara would be a nightmare. He couldn’t breathe, he was burning up, every inch of his skin itched. He bent forward as he started to hyperventilate.

“Are you ok, son?” The priest asked in concern, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

The wedding was paused while the groom was escorted back to his dressing room to be checked out by a medical professional. But by the time the paramedics got there, he was gone.

France, later that night…

He somehow knew who was on the other side of the door before he opened it. She hadn’t been at the wedding. They hadn’t spoken since New York. But he knew it was her. He wouldn’t have answered the door for anyone else. He hadn’t answered the door for anyone else and there had been a steady stream of people knocking on it since he’d bolted from the wedding.

Drake held his breath as he pulled the door open. He stood in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other still holding an open bottle of Johnnie Walker. He looked like holy hell. His eyes were red rimmed, he was shoeless, shirtless, his hair disheveled.

“Can I come it?” She asked, unsure of his reception.

He nodded and stepped back, sweeping his arm out.

She walked into the room. He shut the door. She turned around to face him. He turned around to face her. They stood, wordless, motionless. The bottle dropped from his hand and hit the floor, the whiskey pooling onto the carpet, forgotten as he moved across the room and pulled her roughly to him, his lips crashing down onto hers.

Her arms went around his neck, her body arched up onto the tips of her toes as she returned the kiss. Her hands pulled him forward eagerly, greedily.

“Riley…” He murmured against her mouth as a tidal wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled, deeply, pulling her scent into his lungs, into his soul. His arms tightened their grip around her smell, and her touch, sparked turmoil within him.

Every ounce of pain from the months apart was yanked to the surface, all the loneliness, all the rejection. But it was interspersed with everything else as well. Every touch between them, every moment they’d ever shared, every laugh, every smile, every heated argument and every scorching embrace. The joy and love she provoked in his heart, the confusion and heartache she inspired. A kaleidoscope of feelings exploded inside him all at once. It was too much. It was too much.

He pressed his face deeper into the side of her neck, as his body started to heave, his cheeks slick with tears. He collapsed against her and cried without shame. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the fact that his fractured heart just couldn’t hold it in any longer, but the rest of the world ceased to exist. Here was everything he’d ever wanted, or needed.

Her fingers sank into his back as she held him as close and as tight as she could, her sobs mingling with his own. They clung to each other with a desperate need, an immense yearning and a profound longing, staggering in its intensity. Nothing would ever be enough; they would never be over.

“I’m sorry….I’m sorry!” He wiped at his face as he pulled away.

“Don’t let go of me, please, I need you.” She implored.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found hers again as his hands moved down her body, tracing over every curve, across every valley. His mouth trailed down her neck as he pulled at her clothes. He walked her backwards to the bed, both of them tugging the other’s clothing off as they went.

A finger dipped between her legs, pushing inside her then trailing upwards to tease at her clit. She leaned into him, both hands on his shoulders as her head rested on his chest. He lifted her naked body and sat her on the edge of the bed before kneeling on the floor in front of her. He pushed her legs apart and leaned in, stopping to inhale the scent of her arousal. He wanted to commit every detail to memory, as if this were the last time he would ever touch her.

He lapped gently up and down her center before lavishing attention on her clit as his tongue moved from soft to hard, from slow to fast, stroking, licking and sucking, working her until she cried out in pleasure while bucking herself up into his mouth.

The moment the orgasm had crested, he was on her, pushing her body further onto the bed and climbing on top of her. His lips made the trek from her lower body to her upper body, stopping to give ample attention to first one breast, then the other. He bit at the side of her neck, nipped along her jawline, and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth.

He hovered over her, his gaze burning into her, drinking in her beauty, her surrender, her palpable need for him. She breathed out his name as he entered her.

It felt so right, she felt so right, in his arms, in his bed. Her head pushed back into the pillow as their bodies moved together like a perfectly orchestrated symphony.

His teeth bit down into his own lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to hold his release at bay as he pushed her over the edge one, two, three more times.

Her hand sank into his hair as she whispered in his ear, “I love you. I love you so fucking much!”

He thrust into her one last time as ecstasy washed over him and he exploded inside her. His sweat slicked body collapsed onto the mattress next to her. She immediately rolled over and wrapped her body around him. His arms went around her automatically and he pulled her close to his side as he caught his breath. Her head pressed into his chest. His mouth kissed the top of her head. He held her there until her breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep.

“I love you; I have always loved you; I will always love you. You’re everything.” He whispered into her hair as she slept.

His lip was swollen and bloody where he’d bitten it, there was a bruise blooming on his chest in the shape of her teeth, and bloody lines of nail marks adorned his back, every throb of pain was laced with a jolt of pleasure. Delicious reminders of the night they’d just shared. But as delicious as it was, it was over. She wasn’t his, and she never would be.

When she woke up, he was already gone.

Six months later, Monaco….

Drake sat at the bar nursing a club soda.

“Waiting for someone?” The bartender asked.

“Sort of.” He replied.

“Can I get you something stronger?” He motioned to the club soda in Drake’s hand.

“No, I….you know what? Yeah, bring me a whiskey, whatever you got, make it a double.”

When the drink was deposited in front of him, the bartender gave him a searching look, “Are you ok, man?”

“Not really, but I’ll be fine.” Drake’s hand wrapped around the drink and slid it closer. He spun it a few times and watched the liquid slosh around. His thoughts were on his nonexistent love life. On his definitions of what love was. He was beginning to think he’d been wrong about everything.

Kiara had been physically loyal to him; their relationship had been monogamous and yet he’d been deeply unhappy in it. There was complete lack of understanding, of respect. They hadn’t even enjoyed each other’s company outside of the bedroom.

Riley understood him better than anyone else he’d ever known, including Liam. She’d understood him better than he understood himself most days. Sure, they’d had some epic fights, but the good moments far outweighed the bad and when it had been good, it had been amazing, beyond anything he’d ever experienced with another person.

He still wanted her, he still loved her, and he needed her, he needed her like fish needed water, like plants needed sunlight, he needed her like he needed the air in his lungs. Was it too late? It was probably too late, but he had to try. He was tired of running away, from his feelings, from her, all of it.

He’d run away after the wedding fiasco because he’d been confused, scared, ashamed of what he’d done to Kiara and still conflicted about his feelings for Riley. He’d spent three months getting drunk, then three months getting sober. Part of that was admitting the truth to himself. The simple truth was he loved her, and his life was crap without her in it.

He made a decision. He pushed the still full drink away, threw some bills down on the counter and went back to his room to pack.

Cordonia….

“What do you mean she’s not here?”

“I mean…she’s not here, Drake. Have you forgotten how to speak English?” Liam pushed a tumbler of bourbon into the other man’s hands then took a sip of his own. He didn’t give a damn that it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

“When is she coming back?”

“She’s not coming back.” He said resignedly, “She left me. She’s with Max, at Ramsford.”

Drake startled. “When did that happen?”

Liam sighed as he resumed his seat and stared down into this glass, “Two months ago, give or take.”

“I’m so sorry Liam.”

“It’s a little late for that. Maybe if you had stayed, or come back sooner, it would have made a difference. Everything is broken now.”

“Everything? What about you and Max?”

Liam tilted his head to one side, “Max and I are still together, sort of. He comes by now and then, but he spends most of his time with her. Says she’s going through some stuff but he’s confident she’ll come back to me. I’m not. And I’m going through my own stuff, but whatever.”

Drake watched Liam drain his drink. Had he been completely wrong about everything? “Do you really think me staying would have changed the outcome of your relationship with her?”

Liam shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe.”

Drake deposited the bourbon Liam had given him, untouched, onto the desk and stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Liam asked as Drake headed for the door.

“To Ramsford! I’m getting her back for both of us!”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.” Liam held his glass up in salute.

Ramsford….

“Max, wake up.” Riley poked him.

His eyes fluttered open to find her smiling down at him and happiness washed over him, “Good morning, my everything. What can I do for you this morning? Are you hungry? Can I get you something?”

She giggled, “No. I mean yes, I could eat, and I’d love a bagel with cream cheese but there’s something else I want and you’re going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other day, about Liam and Drake and I think…well, I know you’re right.”

“I am?” He sat up quickly as hope surged through him, “I mean, I know I am but what changed your mind?”

She drew her knees up and leaned her chin on them, “It was the thing you said about everyone being responsible for their own choices and for how they deal with the circumstances dealt to them. I’ve been blaming Liam for Drake leaving but it’s not fair. Drake made that choice on his own and I probably pushed him to it. It was just easier to blame Liam than to deal with my own pain and guilt.”

“So…does that mean….” He sucked in a breath and held it as he watched her face.

She grinned again as she nodded and dropped her hands to cradle her newly expanded midsection, “I want to go home, I want us to be a family, all of us.”

“So, we can finally tell Liam about the baby?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Riley! This is the best news ever! I’m going to call Liam!” Max bounded out of bed looking for his cell phone.

“Wait! Don’t call him, let’s surprise him. Besides, the baby isn’t something that should be done over the phone. He’s going to be so hurt I kept this from him, Max.”

Max doubled back to the bed and slid to his knees as he took her hand in his, “At first, but he’ll understand why you did it and he’ll get over it. He’ll just be thrilled to have you back, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right.”

On the road to the palace….

“Fuck!” Riley pitched forward and grabbed her stomach.

“What is it? Are you ok?”

“No, that really fucking hurt! Shit, was that a contraction?”

“What? No, it’s way too early!”

“I can’t breathe…shit…” She unbuckled her seat belt and drew in great, shuddering breaths.

“That’s not a good idea, put your seatbelt back on, Riley!”

“I don’t feel so good….this can’t be normal, I…I can’t see, Max, I’m scared! I feel so dizzy!” It was the last thing she said before her body slumped in the seat.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Hold on, Riley, hold on, I’ll find the nearest hospital, I’ll call 911!” He fumbled for his phone, but his hand knocked it off the holder on his dash and into the floorboard. He bent to retrieve it from the floor, his eyes darting back and forth from the road to the floor as his hand scrabbled around searching for it. He felt relief wash over him as he finally made contact with the cool plastic of his phone case.

His attention was jerked back up by the blaring of a horn. His car had crossed the center line, he jerked the steering wheel, but it was too late. The sound of metal on metal was the last thing he heard before darkness swam in front of him.

“Fuck.” Drake breathed out as he pulled the SUV over to the side of the road. Now what? He craned his neck to see around the cars that were stopped, blocking the road.

There was a wreck up ahead. He jumped out of his vehicle to see if he could be of any assistance. He had first aid training as part of his military background. He could hear sirens wail in the distance and the sound of a helicopter, but they weren’t there yet. Sometimes minutes could make the different between life and death for someone.

His steps faltered as he got closer to the carnage. Smoking, twisted metal heaps that used to be cars. One of them was red, and on the small side. Like a Ferrari. Like Max’s Ferrari. No, he pushed the thought away, Max didn’t have the only small, red car in Cordonia and it was impossible to tell the make and model from the wreckage.

There was a body on the side of the road, someone had been ejected from the car on impact, thrown clear. He hurried over, heart thudding faster with every step. It was a woman. With long, auburn brown hair. Her face was turned away, but he knew it was her as he broke into a run.

“Riley! Riley!” He yelled her name as he ran, sliding to the ground as he made it to her side. He swept the hair away from her face and wiped at the blood. It was her. She wasn’t moving.

“Riley!” He screamed her name as he checked for a pulse. There was one, but it was thready.

“Wake up, wake up!” He pulled her into his arms, heedless of the blood soaking through her clothes, “Oh God, no, please, not her! Wake up, baby, wake up, stay with me, please.”

Tears streaked down his face as he rocked her back and forth, “I love you! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I left! I’m back, I’m here, please don’t leave me! You can’t leave me, Riley, life isn’t worth living without you in it!”

He didn’t hear the helicopter land, he was heedless of the paramedics until one grabbed his shoulder, “Sir, you have to let go of her, let us do our jobs.”

He nodded as he released her body into their hands. He looked around in shock. They were prying Max out of the driver’s seat with the jaws of life. Shit! Liam, he should call Liam. Bertrand. Somebody.

He pulled his phone out, but his hands were shaking so hard, it slipped from his grasp and shattered on the pavement.

“Sir?....Sir?”

He lifted his head to paramedic, barely able to process the words he was hearing.

“I said do you want to ride in the chopper with us? We have to go, now!”

He nodded and followed the man to the life flight helicopter.

Cordonian National Hospital….

“Right this way, Your Majesty.” A woman in a tailored suit ushed him into a private waiting room, “The doctor will be right with you.”

Liam had been notified the moment the hospital realized their patient was the queen. He’d taken a helicopter to get there faster.

He rose as a man with a doctor’s coat on entered the room, “Your Majesty?”

“Yes.”

The doctor pulled in a deep breath before reporting, “We tried everything; heroic measures were taken but we were unable to save her. I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“Your wife, the queen, her injuries were too severe-“

“Stop….”

“Sir?”

“I said stop!” Liam’s head moved from side to side, slowly at first, then faster, “There has to be some mistake, it’s not possible. She can’t be….she can’t, ok?”

“I’m so sorry.” The doctor turned to Liam’s guard, Alec, “Is there someone that can be here with him? His brother? A friend?”

“Leo is on his way home from the states. Duchess Olivia will be here soon. Lady Hana as well.”

Liam sank back down onto the leather couch, dropping his head into his hands.

The doctor shifted nervously, “Uh…”

Liam lifted his head, “Was there something else?”

A look of confusion washed across the man’s face. “Did you want an update on the baby?”

Liam blinked slowly and his mouth fell open, “The baby?”

“Yes, the baby. She is obviously premature; she also sustained some injuries in the wreck. The trauma to the queen’s body would have probably started labor anyway, but we think she was already in labor before the accident occurred. The baby was expelled from her body, it’s something that happens when the mother is dying, the body pushes the baby out in an attempt to save it. She was born enroute to the hospital.”

Liam had no idea what to say. Riley had been pregnant? And she hadn’t told him. She hadn’t told him. Of course she hadn’t. She’d probably thought he would have forced her to stay if he knew.

But he had a daughter. “She…the baby….she’s alive?”

“Yes, but she’s very premature, her lungs weren’t developed, your wife had preeclampsia, her blood pressure spiked too high, she became hypertensive-“

“Stop! Please, I can’t…just…not right now. The baby, where is she?”

“In the NICU, I can take you but be prepared, she’s very small, she wasn’t ready to be born and she sustained some injuries in the wreck. She’s fighting for her life.”

“Yes, take me there now!”

“There’s one more thing…”

Jesus. What else could there be? “What?”

“The man that rode in the helicopter with her, we believe he’s one of her guards, maybe.”

Liam’s brows drew together. That wasn’t likely. If she’d been with her guards, they’d have been in one of the royal SUV’s, equipped with full roll cages.

“His identification says his name is Drake Walker.”

How? That wasn’t important at the moment, “Where is he?”

“He’s in one of the other waiting rooms. He’s asking for an update, but since he isn’t the next of kin, we’ve been unable to give him one.”

Shit.

“I’ll tell him. But take me to my daughter first.”

Liam stared down at the impossible tiny infant in the isolette. She was so small; she didn’t seem real. There were so many tubes and wires going in and out of her tiny, fragile body that he wept.

The hospital staff in the NICU were understanding and compassionate. They answered all his questions, and he had plenty of them.

He still had so many questions about all of it. Why hadn’t she told him about the baby? Why was she even on the road? Where had she been going? How had Drake gotten there? But most of all, with every fiber of his being he question what kind of a God could do this to him. First his mother, now his wife and maybe his daughter as well. What cruel irony to find her in the same moment he might lose her.

He strode toward the door, “Take me to Captain Walker, please.”

The door to the waiting area swung inward with a creak as a blast of cold air hit him in the face. Drake sat in a chair on the far side of the room, a blank stare on his face, hands clasped in his lap as he leaned forward, unmoving, unseeing.

Liam heard the doctor say, “He’s still in shock.”

Yeah, well, welcome to the club, he thought as he stood in the doorway, “Could you give us the room?”

“Yes, certainly!” Everyone else quickly vacated the area, leaving Liam alone with his childhood companion.

“Drake.”

Drake’s head moved slowly as he drug his eyes over to Liam. He knew. Liam could see it in his eyes, he already knew.

“She’s gone, Li.” He whispered.

“I know.” Liam’s eyes swept over Drake’s rumpled, blood stained clothes. “You were there?”

“Too late. I was too late. There was a wreck. I had to stop; traffic was stuck. I wanted to help, if I could. Then I got close and-“ Anguished sobs chocked off the rest of the sentence.

“So you don’t know where she was going? Why she was on the road? Who she was with?”

Drake’s eyes widened, “They didn’t tell you?”

Liam felt a tendril of dread frission down his spine. “Tell me what?”

It came out barely above a whisper, “Max. She was with Max.”

Cordonian National Hospital, two days later…

Liam sat in the waiting room, twisting a coffee cup in his hand. He was waiting to see Max. The doctors were checking his nerve function or something. They said he might never walk again. Max. Max who loved to move, Max who made him breathless with laughter with his impromptu dance moves, Max who turned backflips on the trampoline, Max who slide down the banister in the fucking palace. It was another cruel irony in a series of cruel ironies.

He'd been in a coma since the accident. A medically induced one, to allow the swelling on his brain to go down. He’d had two surgeries to patch his spial column back together. He’d broken three vertebrae, sustained not one, but two traumatic brain injuries and something called a diffuse axion injury.

They’d removed the vent this morning and weaned him off the propofol. Liam jumped to his feet and started pacing. Again. “Could they take any longer?”

“Liam.” Olivia laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her then glanced across the rest of the room. Drake was slumped in a chair in the corner, head tilted back, hand covering his eyes. Bertrand was sitting with his head in his hands. He’s been crying for two days. Savannah rubbed his back and looked mournfully around the room at her brother wishing she could do more for everyone.

Leo and Rashad sat on the other side of the room, quietly conversing about something. Hana sat next to Drake, staring at her lap.

“I’m fine, Liv! I’m sorry, I just-“

“It’s ok, Liam. This is hard. You’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

He just nodded.

The last two days had been a haze of grief and activity. The baby was struggling, a lot. He still hadn’t picked a name. He was leaning toward Eleanor, after his mother. There were constant medical decisions to be made for her and he spent as much time as he could holding her, kangaroo care they called it.

When he wasn’t in the NICU, he was at Max’s bedside, willing him to live. All the while, the immensity of his own grief threated to drown him. It was always there, no matter what other thoughts or concerns occupied his mind. It pushed at the periphery of his consciousness even in his sleep. He woke up in the middle of night with tendrils of dread and horror snaking through his insides and wrapping around his heart.  

He couldn’t face making arrangements for her funeral, so he’d delegated that to Liv, not trusting to Regina to do it right. Regina didn’t know Riley, didn’t love her. Hadn’t. He couldn’t get used to thinking of her in the past tense. His love, his queen, the light of his life. She was everything to him. Had been. Every time he had to adjust his thoughts to the past tense, a knife twisted in his heart. He was never going to be ok.

Her funeral was tomorrow. Her funeral. Riley’s funeral. Those words were so discordant, the impossibility of it still shocked him.

“You can come in now.” A nurse told them, “He’s awake and talking.”

Normally visitors were limited, but no one was willing to tell that to the king, so they all crowded into the room.

Max’s eyes fell on Liam, “Li…”

“Max!” Liam leaned over the bed and embraced him carefully, “I’m so fucking glad to see you awake!”

Bertrand cried again as he greeted his brother, “Never scare me like that again!”

One by one, everyone said their hellos, then a nurse finally shooed most of them out, “Try to keep it to a couple of people at a time.”

Leo, Rashad, Olivia, Hana and Savannah made their way out of the room, leaving Bertrand, Liam and Drake with Max.

“Wreck?” Max asked his brother.

“Yes.” Bertrand verified, “Do you remember?”

Max shook his head, “Not much….Riley….the baby…”

Drake and Liam exchanged a look. Of course he didn’t know. He’d just woken up.

Max’s eyes went to Liam’s, pleading, “Riley?”

Bertrand took Max’s hand in his. Liam took the other as tears started to fall down his face. Again. He had cried so much in the last two days he wasn’t sure how he had any tears left. He was so sick of crying, of grieving, but he didn’t know how to stop doing either.

Drake turned away and leaned his head into the wall, quiet sobs shaking his body.

“I’m sorry, Max.” Liam said softly, “She didn’t make it.”

Max’s face crumpled as he added his own tears to Liam’s and Drake’s.

Bertrand moved away so Liam could hug Max in a full body embrace, the two men clung to each other as their grief poured out. The elder Beaumont excused himself from the room to give them a little privacy and to pour out some grief of his own in his wife’s arms.

Liam had thought the worst of his tears were over, but as he registered the fresh, raw waves of hopeless despair that washed over the man he loved, it hit him again and now he was crying not just for Riley, not just for himself, not just for their child, but for Max as well. Max, who had also just lost everything.

If he could have taken Max’s grief from him, he would have. But he couldn’t, he was too deep in his own, drowning in guilt and self recrimination. Losing himself in all the what ifs and could have beens.

“My fault…mine…” Max sobbed.

“No, no, it was a horrible, terrible, tragic accident, but it was just that, an accident!” Liam tried to comfort him.

“The baby?”

“She’s alive.” Liam told him. It was the most he could give him. He couldn’t say she was fine or that she was going to make it, because he had no idea if those things were true.

Liam wiped at his eyes as he asked, “What were you even doing on the road that day, Max?”

Drake wiped at his own face as he turned back toward Max to hear the answer.

Max answered haltingly. The doctor had warned them that his speech would be slow at first. His brain was still healing, and his throat was swollen and sore from the vent tube. “She wanted….wanted to come….home…to you.”

“What?” Hope sprang into his chest followed quickly by the crushing memory that she was gone, so it didn’t matter.

Max nodded. “I wanted….to call….but….she wanted….to surprise…..you.”

Liam smiled sadly. That sounded like her. But it didn’t answer the other question, “Why didn’t she tell me about the baby?”

“She was… afraid….”

“Afraid? Afraid of what? I don’t understand!”

“Baby….not….yours….”

“Ok, but so what? The baby is yours, why would she think I’d have a problem with that? We discussed the implications of that already, when we had that scare last year-“

Max shook his head, “Not…mine….”

Liam stared at him, thunderstruck, “But….then whose?”

Liam’s eyes followed Max’s to the only other person in the room.

Drake looked from Max to Liam, then back to Max trying to figure out why they were looking at him. Then his face paled, “What?”

“I knew it!” Liam yelled, as he leapt away from the bed and stalked toward Drake, “The night you left Kiara at the altar, you didn’t answer the door for me, but when I got back to my hotel room, Riley was gone! She stayed gone all night and came back the next day destroyed, again! You fucked her then discarded her, didn’t you? Again? Is that what you did?”

“I….”

“Is that what you did?”

“Liam, I didn’t know, I didn’t know…”

“And that makes it ok? Huh?” Liam shoved him, hard, “Does it?”

Drake didn’t try to defend himself; he held his arms out to the side and shook his head as tears ran down his face. “No.”

“You selfish fucking bastard! This is your fault, all of it! If you hadn’t gotten her pregnant then run away, none of this would have happened! She’d be alive, home, at the palace, and Max wouldn’t be laying in that bed paralyzed!”

Drake didn’t even try to defend himself. He stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall, then slid down to the ground, hands over his face and started crying again. Liam was right. It was all his fault. He’d failed her, he’d failed them all, he always failed everybody.

“Li…not…his fault.”

Liam whirled on the man in the bed. “You should have told me!”

“Wasn’t…my secret…to tell.”

“Fuck you, Max! If you would have told me, maybe I could have talked to her, told her that I’d still raise the baby! Maybe she would have come home sooner and then she’d still be alive! You told me you loved me, then you left me! You chose her, and you kept her secrets, secrets that I had every right to know, Max! I had every right!”

“Liam…”

“Fuck you, Max, I’ll never forgive you for this! Either one of you!” Liam slammed out of the room, guilt cutting through him at the harshness of his words. But he was too mad and too hurt to take them back.

Cordonian National Hospital, NICU….

It was early. Too early, but Drake hadn’t slept anyway. He stumbled down the hallway to the one place he hadn’t been yet. He’d been avoiding it, unsure that his fragile emotional state could take it, but after the revelations of the following day, he had to go.

He stood outside the NICU, gazing in at the impossibly small figure in the isolette. She weighed just under a pound and half. She was only eight inches long.

“Well, are you just going to stand there staring, or are you going to go in?”

Drake jumped; he hadn’t heard Liam walk up behind him. “Is that ok? If I go in? I wasn’t sure….”

“Of course it is, Drake.” Liam placed a hand on his shoulder, “She’s your daughter. Come on.”

They entered the nursery together and Liam gave the staff instructions to give Drake unfettered access to the tiny princess.

“Would you like to hold her?” A nurse asked.

“Are you sure that’s ok?” He asked. Her skin looked translucent; paper thin. “She looks like she’ll break if I hold her.”

“She won’t break, you just have to be careful. I’ll show you how.”

Liam lowered himself into a chair across from Drake, “About yesterday. What I said-“

“You don’t have to apologize, Li.”

“I think I do. I was out of line, what I said-“

“Was true. Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a long time as Drake stared down into his daughter’s face. “She looks like Riley.” He whispered in awe.

“She needs a name.”

Drake looked up at Liam in surprise, “You want me to name her?”

“She’s your daughter, Drake. So, yes.”

“How is she so perfect and so fragile at the same time? Look at her, she’s so fucking beautiful, like her mother. Is she….is she going to make it?”

“I hope so. She’s a fighter, like her mother.”

“I hope so too.”

“Hope is all we have left now.”

Drake drew in a breath, “What about that?”

“What about what?”

“Hope. For her name?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Liam answered.

“Do you…do you think Riley would have liked it?” Drake asked with a quiver in his voice.

“I do. I think Riley would have loved it.”

“That’s it, then. That’s her name. Hope.”

“I’ll let the hospital staff know. They’ve been calling her Artemis.”

“Artemis?”

“They tell me that NICU nurses give all the babies a warrior name while they’re in here.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“It is.” Liam said as he rose from his seat, “Are you coming? The funeral starts soon.”

Drake shook his head, “I can’t, Li. I can’t go to the big, public formal one. I’ll come by after, to the private one. Maybe.”

Liam hesitated in the doorway, unsure how to apologize for the hurtful words he’d said the night before. They were all still so raw and grieving. He’d do it later. “See you tonight then.” He said as he slipped out the door.

Fifteen minutes later…

Drake was still in the NICU when the monitors and alarms started to scream.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Captain, you’re going to have to step out of the room so we can work. We’ll update you as soon as we can.”

He stepped backwards into the hallway as the door shut in his face.

Cordonian National Cemetery….

Drake tossed the green duffle bag to the ground next to the grave then sat down beside it. The bag contained the only three items that mattered anymore.

“Hey Brooks. I’m here, too late, as usual. There are so many things I wanted to say to you and now I’ll never get the chance. You were the love of my life and I wasted what little time we could have had together, just fucking wasted it! I spent most of the last two years running from you, from my feelings, from myself….I was such a coward, and I’m so fucking sorry for it. I should have been there! I should have been there!” He pulled his knees up and dropped his head down onto them, muffled sobs wracking his body.

He used his sleeve to clean his face as he told her, “I can’t believe we have a daughter. She’s perfect, Riley but she’s so tiny and fragile and I don’t think she’s going to make it. I should have been there for her, for you.”

He sighed as he tugged the bag closer to him and pulled  out the stack of letters she’d written him while he was in Texas. The letters he’d never read. He’d never read them, but he also hadn’t been able to bring himself to toss them out. He retrieved the bottle of whiskey from the bag next and opened it. He shifted so he was sitting on the grave itself, and leaned back against the cold marble of her headstone. He alternated between drinking and crying as he read, his eyes greedily taking in her words of love and devotion, his hands trembling as he turned the pages. He kept stopping to wipe away the tears that fell onto the pages and smeared the ink.

He knew Riley would want him to go on, she’d want him to be strong for their little girl. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. She needed someone better than him looking after her. Someone like Liam, someone like Max. Anyone but him. He would inevitably fail her, just like he’d failed everyone else in his life. His father, his mother, his sister, Liam, Max, hell even Kiara but most importantly, Riley, the only woman he’d ever really loved.

If only he’d come back sooner, if only he’d stayed after their night in Paris, or never left in the first place. She died thinking he didn’t love her and that was something he couldn’t live with, something he didn’t want to live with.

He reached into the bag for the third, and final, item. He pulled the 9mm baretta into his lap. “I will love you until the moment I stop breathing, and after. I’ll never stop.”

He clicked the safety off, put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The Palace…..

There was a knock at the door. Liam lifted his head from the desk. He’d been at his desk drinking since returning from the funeral. There had been a lavish state affair followed by a small gathering of close friends and family. Both had been hell.

“Come in!” He barked at the door. Who the fuck was it and why the hell wouldn’t the world just leave him alone to grieve?

“Sir?” Bastien stepped into the room, his voice shaky, his eyes red rimmed, his demeanor halting, unsure.

“Bas? What is it?” Liam sat up in alarm, suddenly alert despite the late hour and amount of bourbon he’d consumed.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I….” Bastien stopped as tears chocked off his words.

Liam had only ever seen Bas cry one other time, when he had delivered the news of Jackson’s death. There were only so many people Bas cared about like that. His blood ran cold as he sprang up from his desk, “No! No! Bas….. no!”

“I’m so sorry Liam….it’s Drake….he…”

“No, Bas! No! Don’t say it!” He cried out in anguish.

“I’m sorry, he’s…he’s gone…he…” Bastien’s head fell down as a low keening sound issued from his throat.

Liam made his way around the desk and grabbed the older man by the shoulders, “How?” But he already knew how. And why.

“Self inflicted gun shot wound to the head.”

Liam’s knees buckled and he felt himself drop toward the floor, “Nooooooooo! No, no, no, no! Why? When is it enough, God, when?”

The two men’s arms wrapped around each other as they slid to the ground together, holding each other, crying into the other’s shoulders, hands gripping into backs as their hearts broke again.

Cordonian National Hospital…

Max opened his eyes to find Liam standing in his room. Not moving, not talking, just standing there, eyes focused on nothing, swaying slightly. “Liam, what are you doing here? What’s wrong? The baby…..”

“She’s the same. Still fighting. It’s Drake.” His voice broke. His fingers flew up to pinch at the sides of his eyes.

Max’s heart contracted, “What happened? What did he do?”

“He did what he always does.” Liam’s voice was low, bitter, infinitely sad, “he ran away from his problems. Permanently this time.”

“Oh, Liam….no…”

“I said such awful things to him….”

“He knew you didn’t mean it, Li, he knew! I promise you, he knew it was your grief speaking.”

“I said unforgivable things to him, Max! And to you too!” Liam ran to his bedside and slid down to his knees, “I’m sorry, Max, I’m so fucking sorry! It wasn’t your fault, I'm glad she had you for those last few months! She told me once that you were the only one who never hurt her, the one that was always there for her, and I'm glad you were with her, taking care of her when I couldn’t be.”

“Did it…for you too…” Max grunted as he tried to shift positions, but he couldn’t move his lower body, “for…all of us.”

“I know.” Liam crawled into the bed and wrapped himself carefully around Max. “If only I'd let her go, if I hadn't tried to control her. Maybe they were the ones that were meant to be together. I should have let her go after the coronation, she could have married him and they’d both still be here!”

“Liam don't-“

“It's okay Max, I don't need you to make me feel better about it. Telling me that it's not true doesn't help because we both know it is. I did hurt her, I did try to control her, I was jealous and possessive!”

“She loved you.”

“I know!” He pushed his face into Max’s neck as the storm overtook him again.

Two years later……

Liam helped Max out of his wheelchair. He wanted to walk from the paved trail to the gravesite. He had to lean on Liam and use a cane to do it, but he was walking. Just short distances, a few steps at a time, and his balance was still off but he was walking. After three separate stints at the best inpatient neurological rehab units in Europe and over a year of outpatient physical therapy, he was finally walking.

Liam had been with him every step of the way, sitting in on therapy sessions, cheering him on and talking him off the ledge when he’d wanted to give up. They had cried together, grieved their losses together and navigated paralysis together. They’d come out stronger, closer and more in love than ever.  

Liam helped Max sit on the stone bench next to the graves, then he bent and placed flowers on each of them. He spoke as he placed the floral arrangements.

“Riley, love…” He stopped for a brief moment to let a few tears trickle down his face, “We both still miss you so much. I still love you, with my whole heart. It’s not the same without you, my queen. But I’d like to think that you’re smiling down on us, pleased with yourself for bringing us together in the first place.”

He knew he would never have gotten through any of it without Max. It astounded him that Max thought he was the lucky one because Liam had stood by him during his recovery. He was aware that not all relationships survived a partner becoming a paraplegic. They’d done the psychological counseling that came with the physical therapy. It was all important to Max’s recovery they’d told him, so he’d done it. But even if Max had never gotten up out of that wheelchair, Liam knew he was the lucky one. And he had Riley to thank for that.

“Drake. My best friend. My brother. My partner in crime. I don’t think you ever had any idea how loved you were. I don’t think your mom would have made it without the support from Bas. It brought them closer to each other. I think he’s always been in love with her, but she spent so many years grieving your father, she never saw it before. They got married a few months ago, they left an empty seat for you at their table, and one for Sierra. I miss you, more than you could possibly imagine. I wish you would have stayed here with us, healed with us. I won’t say it gets better, the pain is always there, but it does become….manageable. Most days anyway.” Liam had to stop to catch his breath before moving onto the third grave.

“Mom. I know you’re looking out for them. I love you and I miss you. I wish you could have met Riley and Hope. You would have loved them both. Riley wasn’t anything like the woman dad wanted for me, but she was the most amazing, fierce person I’ve ever known. And Hope, well, she’s the light of our lives now. She’s got Max and I both wrapped completely around her little finger!”

Liam turned and waved at the limo on the road. His personal guard, Alec opened the back door of the car and a second guard stepped out. Marco had been Riley’s personal guard. He’d served her loyally right up to the end, then seamlessly transitioned to his new position. He reached back in the limo and pulled his small charge out of the backseat.

He took her little hand in his and walked from the road down the paved trail. When they got close, she pulled her hand from his and sprinted across the hardpacked dirt to Liam and Max. “Daddy! Poppa!”

“Careful!” Liam laughed as he caught her in his arms before she could throw herself into Max’s, possibly toppling him to the ground.

“Sorry!”

“It’s ok littlest blossom!” Max laughed, “You’re just excited, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Poppa.” She replied, nodding her little head as she waved her hand in the air. She was clutching three individual flowers. Liam directed her as she placed one on each grave. She knew who each person was thanks to photos and stories. Liam and Max made a point to make their memories live for her as much as possible.

As Liam walked Hope back to Marco, Max talked, “She’s perfect, Ri, she’s amazing. You would have been such a good mother. She misses you. I know some people think she couldn’t possibly remember you, but I know she does. Not consciously, but you carried her inside your body for six months. She knows you. She remembers you. She loves you. She misses you and so do I. Every fucking day.”

Quiet sobs shook his shoulders as he brushed his tears away, “You were everything I ever wanted in life. You always acted like I was doing you a favor or something by supporting you, but the truth is, it was the greatest honor of my life to be there for you. I’ll never stop being there for you. Now that means being there for your daughter. I only hope I can do half as good a job as I know you would have.”

He had to pause again. He let himself feel the ache, the hollowness that would never be filled. “And Drake….I see you too, every time I look at her. She’s got your hair, your eyes and your tenderness but without the rough exterior to cover it up. I don’t know anything about being a dad. Mine wasn’t really there for me, you’re the one that had the good dad and I know you would have been a great one; I hope I don’t let you down. Either one of you.”

He glanced up to find Liam standing there, hands shoved in his pockets. “Are you ready?”

“Almost.” Max told him, then turning back to the graves, “You’d both be so proud of Liam. He’s an amazing dad and he’s the only reason I kept living after we lost the two of you. I don’t think I’d be walking again if it weren’t for him. I don’t know if I’d be living if it weren’t for him.”

Liam squeezed his eyes shut, remembering his fear and anxiety during those early days, especially after he learned that the leading cause of death for paraplegics during the first five years following paralysis is suicide. He had already lost too much, and he’d fought mightily to keep Max in this world.  

“I think they were looking out for you; I believe that.” Liam helped Max up from the bench, then wrapped an arm around him.

“For both of us, Li.”

“Yeah, and for Hope too.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Max apologized.

“It’s ok, it’s an emotional day, but we need to get back and get ready for Hope’s birthday party.”

“I’m ready.”

Liam helped Max back to the trail and into his wheelchair. He paused and glanced back at the graves. He swore he could feel them. He turned and walked alongside the wheelchair to the road.

If he could have seen through the veil between the worlds, he would have seen Riley and Drake standing there, watching them walk away, hands entwined with each other, smiling at them with love and approval.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:

  @nestledonthaveone @gkittylove99 @karahalloway  @texaskitten30 @tessa-liam

@kachrisberry @fangirling12566 @belencha77 @lovingchoices14 @twinkle-320

@21-wishes @secretaryunpaid @lunaseasblog  @princessleac1 @bebepac

@emersyn-in-cordonia @walkerdrakewalker @73geenalove @tornbetween2loves @sillydg

@pinklipsandmasonjars @savannahdix @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @3pawandme

@queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tinkie1973 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @jared2612 @mainstreetreader

@amandablink @harleybeaumont  @xpandass420x @ladyangel70 @twinkleallnight

@dcbbw   @choicesficwriterscreations @burnsoslow @Txemrn @aussiegurl1234 @shreyasrivathsa

[kalpanahandmadepaper]

https://kalpanapapers.com/collections/foil-print-paper

[handymanservicesvegas]

Professional Wallpaper Installation Service in Las Vegas NV | Vegas Handyman Services

More information is at: http://lasvegashandyman.org/wallpaper-installation-near-me/

Are you searching for wallpaper installation service in Las Vegas NV? Vegas Handyman Services is the best professional wallpaper installation service that will serve you with the best quality of services everytime you need such kind of service to make your place look more beautiful. So, when you need to install wallpaper at your office and home, contact us to get the quotes. The best wallpaper installation service of Las Vegas NV! Free estimates. Feel Free to Call us now or book online quickly!

REQUEST FREE ESTIMATES!

WALLPAPER INSTALLATION SERVICE If you have your own wallpaper, we are happy to supply the labour or any additional materials required to install it. If you require any advise on which products are relevant to your application, we are willing to help. We are also happy to provide wallpaper sample books on behalf of our suppliers and contacts worldwide. We have, on several occasions, imported wallpaper for well under the local market value for our clients.

We specialize in a wide range of wallpaper and wall coverings, ranging from vinyl coated wallpaper, to embossed and non-woven wallpapers. Whether you are after the look that foil or flocked wallpapers provide, or you want to add natural textures like grass coverings or fabric, Vegas Handyman Services wants you to know we are also well-qualified installers of wallpaper and wall coverings. Our service is an affordable option for customers in Las Vegas NV.

Our customers recommend our services not only due to our competitively priced services but the high standard of our work and the customer service we provide. We believe that a high level of workmanship is enhanced by an affordable price and the excellent level of customer satisfaction. Our team strive to deliver on our promise here at Vegas Handyman Services.

At Vegas Handyman Services we aim to arrange a viewing of your property within a week of receiving your request. Within 24 hours of your viewing our team will guarantee to provide you with a free no-obligation quote. We're proud of the service that we provide and we hope that all of our customers do too.

We deliver our clients superior quality and perfect finish and every project is very important to us, no matter big or small. We will listen to all your needs and bring to life your living or working space ideas with our wallpaper installation service.

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[keiraconnery]

The Benefits of Choosing Wedding Card Printing Services Near Me

When planning a wedding, every detail counts, and one of the first and most significant pieces of the puzzle is your wedding invitations. Wedding cards are not just formalities; they are a reflection of your style, your celebration, and the start of your new journey together. While the digital age offers numerous online printing options, choosing a local wedding card printing service can provide distinct advantages that can enhance your overall wedding planning experience. Here’s a comprehensive look at the benefits of opting for wedding card printing near me.

Personalized Service and Expertise

Direct Interaction

One of the most significant benefits of choosing a local wedding card printing service is the opportunity for direct interaction with professionals. Meeting face-to-face with the printer allows for more personalized service and a better understanding of your vision. You can discuss your design ideas, show samples, and receive immediate feedback, which is invaluable for achieving the perfect result.

Expert Advice

Local printers often bring years of experience and expertise to the table. They can offer tailored advice on paper quality, printing techniques, and design elements based on your specific needs. Their knowledge of local trends and preferences can also help in creating cards that resonate with your guests and fit the style of your wedding.

Quick Turnaround Times

Faster Production

Local wedding card printing services can often provide quicker turnaround times compared to online services. By working with a printer close to home, you can avoid long shipping times and potential delays. This is especially important if you’re working with tight deadlines or need to make last-minute changes.

Easy Access

Should you need to make adjustments or review proofs, being local means you can easily visit the printing service in person. This accessibility allows for more efficient communication and quicker resolution of any issues, ensuring your wedding cards are ready when you need them.

High-Quality Materials and Craftsmanship

Quality Control

Local printers are more likely to offer a range of high-quality materials and finishes, including premium paper stocks, embossing, and foil stamping. You can view and touch the materials before making a decision, ensuring that the final product meets your expectations.

Attention to Detail

Smaller, local printing businesses often pride themselves on their craftsmanship and attention to detail. They may take extra care in quality control, resulting in a superior product. Their reputation within the community is often built on providing exceptional service and high-quality results.

Cost-Effectiveness

Competitive Pricing

While it’s a common belief that local services are more expensive, this is not always the case. Local printers often offer competitive pricing and may provide discounts for bulk orders or package deals. Additionally, you can save on shipping costs and avoid the additional fees that some online services may charge.

No Hidden Costs

By working directly with a local printer, you can avoid hidden costs often associated with online orders, such as unexpected shipping fees or additional charges for revisions. Transparent pricing and clear communication help ensure that you stay within your budget.

Supporting Local Businesses

Economic Impact

Choosing a local wedding card printing service supports the local economy and helps small businesses thrive. Your decision to shop locally can have a positive impact on your community, fostering economic growth and creating jobs.

Community Connection

Local businesses often have deep ties to the community and may offer personalized touches that reflect local culture and traditions. This connection can add a special, personal element to your wedding cards and make them even more meaningful.

Customized and Unique Options

Tailored Designs

Local printers can offer more customized and unique options that may not be available through larger online services. Whether it’s a specific paper texture, a unique printing technique, or a custom design element, local printers can accommodate special requests and bring your vision to life.

Local Inspirations

Local printers may also draw inspiration from local art, landmarks, or cultural elements, allowing you to incorporate these into your wedding cards. This can create a more personalized and unique design that reflects both your style and your connection to the community.

Environmentally Friendly Choices

Reduced Carbon Footprint

By choosing a local wedding card printing service, you reduce the need for long-distance shipping and transportation, which can contribute to a smaller carbon footprint. Many local printers are also committed to sustainable practices, offering eco-friendly paper options and environmentally responsible printing processes.

Recycling and Waste Reduction

Local printers often have more control over their waste management practices and may offer recycling options for leftover materials. This commitment to sustainability can align with your values and contribute to a more eco-conscious wedding.

Building Relationships and Trust

Long-Term Relationships

Working with a local printer allows you to build a relationship based on trust and mutual understanding. This relationship can be beneficial for future printing needs, whether it’s for thank-you cards, event programs, or other personal projects.

Reliable Support

Local printers are more likely to provide reliable, attentive support throughout the printing process. If any issues arise, you can address them directly and promptly, ensuring that your wedding cards meet your expectations and are delivered on time.

Conclusion

Choosing a local wedding card printing service in Birmingham offers numerous benefits, from personalized service and faster turnaround times to high-quality materials and community support. By opting for a local printer, you gain access to expert advice, unique customization options, and a more efficient and cost-effective process. Additionally, supporting local businesses contributes to the local economy and fosters a sense of community connection.

Whether you’re seeking elegant designs, special finishes, or simply a reliable printing partner, exploring local options can provide a rewarding experience and help ensure that your wedding cards are as beautiful and unique as your celebration.

[thelittlefanpire]

wip title game: all that glitters is not gold ✨

this fic is set in the most aesthetically pleasing universe I have ever created. omg. so it takes place before Nothing Gold Can Stay but with different characters. It was supposed to be written during Chopped Madness for the Harper Round but I couldn’t finish it. here’s a little sneak peek for you:

The funeral was short. The few McIntyre’s in attendance little. And once the body was lowered completely into the ground, Harper took off. She didn’t tell her mother she was leaving, just went home, changed her clothes, grabbed her bag, and left.

Main Street was crowded, she noticed on her way to the bus stop. Hours earlier, it had been empty when the funeral procession passed, but now the sidewalks were packed with people. Harper weaved her way in and out of bodies, squeezing past familiar faces. No one paid much attention to her, for all eyes were on the parade going down the middle of the street.

Once the crowd cleared, Harper quickened her steps to the bus stop, but the noise on the street pulled her eyes back in that direction, and what she saw caused her to stop in her tracks.

The mile-long street was gleaming with gold and glistening of glamour. People in costumes held flags, small cars were filled with clowns, and an endless line of entertainers paraded by. Harper couldn’t see the beginning of the line but she watched a group of women cartwheeling past her. They spun faster than any gymnasts Harper had ever seen, their glittering costumes flashing against the window shops of the dull town.

She stared after them as they disappeared down the street and then the crowd slowly dispersed after the last clown car had passed. Harper bent down to pick up a card from a pile that littered the sidewalk, tossed out by the people in the strange parade.

It was a thick cardstock, laminated with a thin layer of rainbow foil, over gold and black stripes that ran down like the shape of a circus tent. There were two times typed in fancy white scrawl on the bottom: three o’clock sharp and precisely sunset for this day only.

Harper flipped the card over but nothing was on the back except for an address. Harper recognized the name of the cross street near the train station and her house, where a large empty lot sat. The rainbow foil caught in the light, she rocked the card back and forth trying to catch what symbols that were embossed there. She couldn’t make anything out, so she stuck the card in her back pocket and continued on to the bus.

WIP TITLE GAME! ask me about my stories!

[genesispropac]

Box Printing Near Me in Noida | Genesis Pro Pac

If you’re seeking Box Printing Near Me in Noida, then your search ends at Genesis Pro Pac. Genesis provides you with premium printing boxes. The printing boxes also contain laminated inners and partitions. The use of best-quality materials makes sure that the boxes are free of stink. The boxes are printed in multicolor traditional and modern designs with gold foiling and embossing giving a look.

To know more about our services, you can directly contact us at +91 9873621555 or visit the website: https://genesispropac.com/

[dodelinedesign]

What are the various printing methods?

Save-the-date cards and wedding invitations are among the first items your guests will see, and their design will establish the tone for your wedding. Here are the seven primary printing processes utilised by Designs by Sarah.

​ DIGITAL PRINTING

Digital Printing is currently the most prevalent, cost-effective, and straightforward printing method. Directly delivered digital files (such as PDFs) are used for digital printing. Drum-like electrostatic rollers apply toner to the paper. Except for metallic hues such as gold, silver, and rose gold, a vast array of hues and tones can be manufactured.

​ OFFSET PRINTING

Offset Printing applies ink to a sheet of paper via etched metal plates (one plate is manufactured for each colour being printed). The metal plates are attached to the rollers that transfer ink to the paper. Compared to digital printing, colour matching is more exact with offset printing since flat and metallic ink colours are custom-formulated. ​

LETTERPRESS

Letterpress, one of the earliest printing techniques, has become one of the most preferred printing methods for wedding invites. The ink is pushed into the surface of the paper so that the text or image can be seen and felt. Each item is individually pressed, which contributes to the timeless appearance and feel of your wedding day. ​

 FOIL STAMPING

Foil Stamping is a printing technique comparable to letterpress in which metallic colours or foils are heatedly applied to the surface. The foil adheres to the paper due to the heat, producing a decorative appearance. Gold and silver are the most regularly utilised hues in this method. ​

The antithesis of letterpress, embossing raises the design rather than indenting it into the paper. This appearance is obtained by imprinting the paper with an etching that leaves a mark on the paper.

Any renowned wedding invitation printing near me can help you out as a guidance.

[ghostofatree]

The Book of Danger nears its end and in a similar way we can only hope that current dangers will one day end. Here are a series of plates - some previously glimpses as double pages. The first second third and fourth are a short sequence of mixed media drawing with collages pages of book of Deuteronomy, spray paint, crushed batteries, copper embossing foil, stencil and found images. I was looking a lot at Joseph Beuys at the time and liked the idea of parts being connected by copper wire by which energy might flow. Here a ruined battery is connected through a page of hateful biblical murder like a circuit, to the word Amen. The grill stencil was a suggestion if a confessional box but in that colour green reminds me more of a screen in a mosque for some reason. The next was a timely found image of paradise going down the drain. The next two were my own footprints in charcoal with continuous line drawing. The last two were my drawings of sitting by the canal in Amsterdam in more stable and joyful days #sketchbook #journaling #archive #nostalgia #2000s #memories #collage #assemblageart #bibleart #queerartist #liverpoolartist #texture #amsterdam (at Toxteth, L8) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeL3DZEsjOC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kayla1993-world]

Queen Elizabeth's Favorite Handbag Brand Launches New Retro Style | PEOPLE.com

Queen Elizabeth is rarely seen without her iconic handbag. Now, the brand behind her go-to style has dug through its archives to launch a new take on a vintage style in honor of its most famous customer.

Inspired by the monarch's historic 70 years on the throne, Launer's Jubilee Bag is based on a style that they launched in 1972 — one that the Queen herself used to wear.

"It's a beautifully finished product — we stick to what we are good at, which is making structured bags," CEO of the brand, Gerald Bodmer, tells PEOPLE from his factory in Walsall, near Birmingham.

The limited-edition bag, which costs $3,385 and is available in five colors (with names including Monarch Purple (see above) and the Queen's favorite, Ebony Black), features a special leather plaque with "Platinum Edition Jubilee" written in embossed gold foil on the inside, while the outside features the brand's distinctive gold-plated twisted rope emblem.

The making of the bag was possible after a member of the public contacted the handbag designer after discovering the original design (identified by a number rather than a name) in his grandmother's attic. With the pattern for this bag long lost, Bodmer thought it was the perfect time to reinvent the classic retro style.

"I always liked that bag, so I used it as inspiration. I don't know why the Queen stopped carrying it. Maybe it wore out?" Bodmer says.

The Queen was last seen wearing the original version of the bag in 1995 when she attended a thanksgiving service at Westminster Abbey. Made of black patent, the pared-back style was worn with a bright pink jacket, floral dress and matching pink floral hat.

"She always looks so smart and elegant, and I think our bags go together with that," says Bodmer, who welcomed the Queen to his factory in 1992 and also counts Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall as a customer.

While the Traviata, handmade in fine calf leather with a soft goat suede lining, was once her go-to style, the Queen has more recently opted for the smaller but sturdier Turandot, which Bodmer makes specifically for her, with some minor adjustments.

"She wants less weight in her bags now, so I try to make the bag light enough for her to carry. There are many extras, so I just try to make it as light as I can without spoiling it," says the 89-year-old proprietor, who took over the brand in 1981.

The handles on the Queen's bag are also made longer for ease of movement, something that's even more essential now she's about to turn 96 and using a walking cane more because of mobility issues.

"She's often carrying a stick, and that takes some effort to carry a bag as well, but just like my wife, the Queen told me she doesn't feel comfortable without a handbag!" Bodmer says.

Indeed, the Queen has worn six different styles from the luxury brand over the last five decades and her bag is much a part of her look as her signature pearls or brightly colored jackets.

The royal family's history with Launer dates back to the 1950s, when the Queen Mother purchased her first bag from the brand. Founded in the 1940s by Sam Launer, who fled Czechoslovakia with his wife and two sons during the war, the brand was given a Royal Warrant in 1968 and the Queen has become its longest-standing customer to date.

The British heritage brand, who launched its e-commerce site in 2008, has seen a steady increase in online sales over the years, with many online customers opting for their unique "build a bag" service, where you can choose your own materials, colors and personalization in six easy steps. It's something the handbag designer is immensely proud of — as he is of Launer's longtime association with the Queen.

"I feel a certain amount of satisfaction — it's wonderful that the Queen still carries our bags after all this time and it's marvelous that she supports a small independent company like us," he says.