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“You’re not broken,” I said, voice firm. “You’re fire.”
Her eyes flickered. Doubt, but something else. Hope, maybe.
“I worked for everything,” she said. “Every costume, every class. Nothing was free.”
I pulled her closer. “I know.”
“Even love,” she whispered. “I had to earn that, too.”
The words gutted me. I’d felt that. Love as a transaction, always out of reach.
“Not with me,” I said, voice rough. “You don’t earn it. It’s yours.”
She looked at me. Eyes wide, searching. Like she wanted to believe but couldn’t.
“My dad’s billions,” I said, slow, deliberate. “They’re not just mine. They’re ours.”
Her breath caught. A small sound, but heavy.
“My riches are your riches,” I said. “You’ll never have to skimp again.” I cupped her face. Held her gaze. “No more patched jeans. No more lentils … unless you still like them.”
Her lips parted. Eyes glistening, not with tears now, but something brighter.
“You don’t have to worry,” I said. “Not about money. Not about surviving.” I leaned in. Forehead to hers. “You’re mine, Red. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t speak. Just looked at me. And there it was—a flicker in her eyes.
Hope. Small, fragile, but real.
It was enough. A spark I’d fan into a flame.
My job now was to prove it. To show her she could have more than survival.
I held her tighter. Arms wrapping her fully, pulling her into my lap.
She sank against me. Body soft, pliant. Her head on my shoulder. We stayed like that. Silent. The boutique’s glow dimming, harbor lights twinkling outside. Her breathing slowed. Steady now, but fragile. I didn’t let go.
Holding her was everything.
Possessiveness burned. Not for her body, but her heart. I wanted her safe. Whole.
I thought of tomorrow. Her in my bed, curls on my pillow, laugh filling the air.
I’d build her a world where she didn’t have to fight for every scrap. Where she could want, and have, without fear.
Her hand rested on my chest. Fingers curling into my shirt.
I kissed her hair. Soft, a vow. “I’ve got you,” I whispered again.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. That flicker of hope in her eyes said enough.
It was my job to make it real. To prove she could trust me, trust us.
The demon was quiet. Not gone, but content. For now, this was enough. Vivi was mine. And I’d burn the world to keep her whole.
21
VIVIENNE