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It's my wedding gift for my bride of four hours, whom I've abducted from our simple Christian ceremony, and have kept blindfolded for the drive here.

"Can I take it off now?" Shayla asks, fingers fidgeting with the silk scarf covering her eyes.

"Go ahead."

She pulls the blindfold down, and the look on her face is priceless. Shock, confusion, then dawning understanding as she reads the sign. Her lips part, but no sound comes out.

––––––––

"YOU'LL RUN OUR FOUNDATIONfrom here." My own voice cracks as I say this. Because her dream has become my dream as well, and a part of me still finds it hard to believe how God's given us the privilege to serve Him this way.

"T-This..." Shayla shakes her head. "This is why you agreed to the interview."

"Yes." In exchange of allowing a society magazine to feature our wedding, they'll make a sizeable donation to Psalm 13.

"I can't believe this," Shayla whispers in a daze. "Is this really true? How will it work?"

"If someone comes here, they need to be okay with a thirty-minute talk with our in-house pastor before they can receive help. All they have to do is listen. That's non-negotiable."

She's nodding at every word, and I'm glad. Every foundation has its own objective, and we're both standing firm on what's ours.

"It will have free daycare, legal counsel, medical consultations, counseling. For a start."

Shayla starts crying, tears spilling over her cheeks. "I've never heard anything hotter in my entire life."

I can only shake my head and laugh. She's lived just three weeks with Hope, and the effects are already showing, and most likely permanent.

"But this is just the first half of my gift."

Milos drives us back to my penthouse—our home now—and my wife looks at me in bemusement when I take her straight to the infinity pool. The night air is warm against our skin, and the pool's reflection is a fascinating mix of starry skies and city lights. I've had candles placed around its edge, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.

Shayla's eyes widen when I slowly pull her close and reach for one of the delicate straps of her gown.

"A-Adriano?"

"Do you trust me?"

"No."

I laugh. "Liar." Because I'm already spinning her around, and she hasn't made the slightest effort to resist. Her body trembles as I reach for the zipper behind her back, and she lets out a whimper as she feels it slowly sliding down.

"But what if—"

"Trust me." I have my ways. No one will see us. It's guaranteed.

Her gown falls into a pool around her feet, and the sight of my bride down to her lacy underwear has me sucking my breath.

"You're beautiful, Mrs. Kontides."

"And embarrassed to death."

My lips curve in a smirk. "Good." And then I start taking off my clothes off in silence.

"What are you doing?" Shayla croaks out.

I turn her around in answer, and she gulps audibly at seeing all of me for the first time.

"A-Adriano..."