Page 12

T he walk back to the hotel is quiet, but Vegas is not.

Around us, the city pulses, neon lights reflecting off sleek black pavement, a riot of color and movement.

Music spills from clubs and casinos, blending into the constant murmur of people—tourists, gamblers, dreamers—all caught in the endless glow of excess and possibility.

The scent of cigarette smoke, spilled liquor, and night-blooming jasmine clings to the air, an intoxicating mix that might seduce many.

But not me. All my focus is on her.

My wife.

I hold Aella’s hand.

A small thing, maybe.

But to me?

It’s everything.

Because I’m not just holding her hand.

I’m claiming her.

And every motherfucker who even thinks about taking a second glance?

I see them.

And they see me.

I meet their curious, interested, admiring stares with a look that dares them to test me.

They don’t.

Because this woman? This woman is mine. Even if she doesn’t fully realize yet what it means.

Even if she’s still second-guessing.

Even if she doesn’t understand that I will do anything for her.

Anything to keep her.

To protect her. To own her.

We turn the corner, and she suddenly stops moving.

Her fingers tighten around mine, her pulse skittering beneath my thumb.

“What is it?” I murmur, my voice low, calm.

She looks up at me, eyes wide. Shimmering. Doubtful.

“We’re only a block away,” she whispers.

But I know what she’s really saying.

This place. This night. This moment.

It’s all happening so fast.

She’s feeling shy. Maybe even scared.

Thinking too much.

Second-guessing.

Bracing herself for some imagined aftermath.

I won’t let her do that. Not with me.

I squeeze her hand, drawing her closer. And then I kiss her.

Hard.

Fast.

Possessive.

She makes a small, startled sound, but melts against me in an instant.

I don’t let up, don’t let her overthink this.

I just take.

And when I pull back, breath ragged, voice gravel, I murmur, “I know you’re nervous, but I know how to take care of you. Believe me?”

Her gorgeous green eyes search mine, pale like new leaves, flecked with gold and ringed in a thin halo of blue.

A color I’ve never seen on anyone else.

Ethereal.

Unbelievable.

Mine.

The pause seems to freeze time, and I don’t even realize I am holding my breath until she speaks again.

“I believe you, Sammy.”

I exhale.

And something inside me clicks into place.

Something deep, unchangeable, unshakable.

Because this is it. We were always meant to be. And tonight?

I’m finally taking what’s mine.

“Come on.”

She walks beside me, docile as a lamb, her fingers tight in mine.

But Aella is not a lamb.

She’s a goddamn fairy.

My Pixie .

A creature too delicate, too magical for a place like this, for a man like me—but she’s here, and she’s mine, and I’ll keep her safe no matter the cost.

She has my full attention.

My body is buzzing with anticipation. Seven years is a long fucking time to abstain for a man like me.

But it was hardly a choice. More like a goddamn biological imperative.

I only get hard for her.

She is the embodiment of desire for me, and I am hers whether or not she knows it.

We enter the hotel through a private entrance, the kind only high rollers, billionaires, and men like me have access to.

The elevator is empty, sleek, silent. A direct line to the penthouse section.

And the second those doors close, I lose my restraint.

I grab her and press her up against the wall, my hands locking around her waist, my body caging her in.

Her breath hitches, her pupils blown wide, lips parted like she’s waiting for me to ruin her.

I dip my head, my voice a rough promise against her lips, “Everything starts now.”