RONAN’S POV

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my black tie for the third time. The fabric kept slipping through my fingers, and I couldn't seem to get it right. My hands were shaking more than I wanted to admit.

My phone buzzed on the dresser. Another message from my mother.

Why are you not picking my calls? I am close.

I stared at the text, then set the phone face down without responding. She could wait. She'd been waiting my entire life to control me, so a few more minutes wouldn't ...