Claimed at the Cartel Wedding

I have one rule as a wedding planner: never take a job from the Varela family. Then a deposit hit my account with my signature already on the contract, and I had nine days to stage the wedding of the year for the most dangerous family on the border. Mateo Varela signed it. He runs the legitimate half and pretends not to know about the rest, and he doesn't negotiate with people he's already bought. Then a rival crew shot up my rehearsal dinner, and we spent the next nine days sealed inside a hacienda with a guest list containing four people who want us dead. The wedding has to happen on schedule. It's the only thing holding the truce together. And the only two people who can pull it off are the bride's brother and the planner he trapped into it. We built it together. Seating charts. Menus. A lie about us, to keep the guests from asking questions. On the day, the bride walked out. The truce still needed a marriage. It just didn't say whose.