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I stopped dead.
It was … a boutique.
A fucking boutique.
Designer racks lined the space, organized by color and texture, the kind of selection you’d find in SoHo or Paris, not tucked inside the guts of a hacker’s lair. Glass cases gleamed with accessories. Shoes sat like sculpture on mirrored shelves. There was a velvet fainting couch, for Christ’s sake. A dressing area with silk robes hanging from hooks. And in the center of it all, a marble table glistened with chocolate-covered strawberries, flutes of champagne chilling in a silver bucket beside them, bubbles catching the light.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the harbor sparkled. Boats bobbed lazily in the distance. The lights from the pier twinkled like stars had dropped from the sky just for me.
I blinked, once. Twice.
This wasn’t real. This was something out of a fever dream.
“Elias,” I breathed. “What … what is this?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just watched me take it in.
“I know you couldn’t pack a bag,” he said finally. “I figured maybe ... you shouldn’t have to.”
I turned to look at him.
“I didn’t want you to feel like you needed anything,” he continued, voice lower now. “So I brought everything to you.”
My throat closed up.
“I wanted you to have options. Comfort. Luxury. Whatever would make you feel even one ounce better. You don’t have to prove anything to me, Red. Just … let yourselfhavesomething.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
He stepped closer. “Pamper yourself. Try things on. Eat the strawberries. Drink the damn champagne. You’re allowed.”
A lump swelled in my throat. How did he know?
“I don’t—” I shook my head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Then start here,” he murmured, brushing a curl back from my cheek. “With something soft. Something you don’t have to fight for.”
He pulled a hanger from the rack—a backless silk slip in a shade that looked like liquid moonlight—and held it up.
“You’d look incredible in this,” he said, and it didn’t sound like a line. It sounded like reverence.
I stared at the gown. Then at him.
And then I took it.
Wordlessly, I slipped behind the folding screen and let the fabric slide over my skin. It was absurd, how beautiful it was. How I looked in it. Like someone else. Someone unbroken.
When I stepped out, Elias didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me like I’d stopped time.
Then: “Jesus, Red.”
I flushed. “Too much?”
“Not even close.” His voice was husky now. “You’re … breathtaking.”
I looked away, heat rushing to my cheeks. “You planned all this. For me.”
“I’d level a city for you,” he said simply.