Page 27

I t’s the middle of the night, and I’m lying in bed with my husband— my impossibly sexy, ridiculously powerful, completely unexpected husband —who just literally blew my mind in every conceivable way.

I should be exhausted. Wrung out. A puddle of incoherent bliss.

Instead, I’m wide awake, heart hammering against my ribs, staring at the ceiling like a lunatic because holy fucking hell, Sammy Ramirez just made love to me like a demon.

Like it’s his fucking job to make me come.

No, he hasn’t professed undying love for me. But he basically said I belong to him.

That he wants me.

That he’s been crazy for me this whole time.

I don’t know what to do with that information.

I should have told him how I feel. The words sat on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to be brave enough to say them.

But then he kissed me, soft at first, then deeper, and before I could even catch my breath, he was inside me again, whispering my name like it was a goddamn prayer.

And now?

Now, I’m wrapped in his arms, staring at the ceiling like an idiot, trying to process the fact that the man I’ve secretly loved for half my life just fucked me stupid.

Is that a thing? I think that’s a thing.

I turn my head, watching as Sammy lies beside me, one arm tucked behind his head, the other curled possessively around my waist, like he knows I might try to run away from the weight of this moment and he refuses to let me.

His face is relaxed, eyes half-lidded, but I know he’s not asleep.

Not yet.

I bite my lip. What we just did was hot. So hot.

I’ve never given a blow job before, but I’m pretty sure I did alright.

Yay me!

“More than alright, Pixie. You did fucking great.”

I groan, mortified, because shit—I really need to work on my internal monologue.

I did not mean to say that out loud.

Sammy chuckles, the sound low and satisfied, and his fingers trace lazy circles over my bare hip, sending a shiver rolling through me.

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes darken, his attention sharpening entirely on me.

“You can ask me anything,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

His touch is so intimate, so reverent it makes my chest ache.

I hesitate.

Not because I don’t trust him—I do.

But because I know this answer is going to change everything.

I take a breath, my fingers trailing over the ink on his chest, marveling at how warm and solid he feels beneath my touch.

His body is a masterpiece— all hard lines and corded muscle with thick masterful tattoos.

Like a living, breathing work of art.

But it’s not his body I’m thinking about.

It’s him.

“Why?” I finally whisper.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering over his too-handsome face.

“Why what?”

“Why did you bring ReadEase to the board at Volkov Industries?”

He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t flinch or scramble for an answer.

Because he already knows exactly what to say.

“Because it’s an amazing app,” he says simply. “And because I believe in you.”

Something inside me clenches so tightly I can barely breathe.

“But we weren’t a thing back then,” I murmur, trying to wrap my head around it.

His lips curve, but his expression is serious, his gaze never wavering.

“Aella, I didn’t support your project because I wanted to fuck you. I mean, yeah, I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for more years than was legal for me to want you, but that’s not why.”

I gasp, smacking his chest, but my heart stutters in my chest at the raw honesty in his voice.

He grins, gripping my wrist, bringing it to his lips.

“It’s a great app,” he says, soft and sure. “Why did you create it?”

I swallow, blinking back the sudden sting of emotion.

“Oh,” I whisper, shaking my head, trying to focus. “Well, reading is supposed to be this solitary thing, right? Something people do to relax. But for people like me—people with dyslexia—it’s never solitary. Not at first. It’s hard and frustrating, and we always need help. And when I was a kid, dyslexia wasn’t something people talked about. It was ignored. Dismissed. Something you had to be ashamed of.”

Sammy’s jaw tightens, his expression darkening.

“To think you struggled alone for years before getting diagnosed,” he mutters, voice low and rough, like the very idea makes him want to break something.

I shrug, forcing a smile.

“My mom fought for me,” I say softly. “She knew something was wrong and wouldn’t let them ignore it. But by the time I was diagnosed, I’d already spent years feeling like I was stupid.”

“You are not stupid,” Sammy growls, his hand fisting in the sheets, his whole body coiled with tension.

I smile, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I know that now. And my parents knew it too. But a lot of kids don’t have that kind of support. So I created ReadEase to help. To make sure no one feels like they have to hide it. To give people with dyslexia a way to navigate the world without shame.”

Sammy’s hand curls around me and I snuggle into his warmth, but my mind is racing.

“You know, I’ve been talking to a woman I knew from college—she’s a teacher now. She thinks I might be able to test ReadEase at her school,” I say, fingers toying with the hem of the blanket. “If it works, maybe other schools will get on board. Maybe it could actually help people.”

I bite my lip, suddenly feeling small.

What if it’s a pipe dream?

What if I’ve poured everything into this, only for it to fail?

But then Sammy’s voice cuts through the doubt like a blade.

“Goddamn right, it will work and your app will help countless people.” His hand is warm and steady as he grips my hip, anchoring me. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Pixie.”

I blink.

“What? Why?”

His gaze darkens with intensity, his hand sliding up, his thumb grazing my skin.

“Because you’re a miracle,” he murmurs. “You took something most people would have seen as a weakness, and you turned it into a strength. You fought through it. You didn’t let it define you. And now? You’re using what you learned to help others. You’re brave. You’re caring. You’re so fucking brilliant, Aella.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, leaving me breathless.

I don’t know what to say. No one has ever put it like that before.

Not that my parents weren’t supportive—they were.

But Sammy? He looks at me like I’ve conquered the impossible.

Like I’m unstoppable.

Like he’s in awe of me.

And that’s a priceless feeling. To have someone’s unwavering belief in you.

I swallow past the emotion rising in my throat, needing to shift the focus before I break down.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “I know Volkov Industries is a powerhouse, but how exactly did you come to be an owner? Was it a gift?”

Sammy snorts, shaking his head.

“Part ownership? Hell no. Uncle Adrik doesn’t just hand out pieces of the company. Not even to family.” He shrugs. “I’m on the board because I’m rich.”

I blink again.

“What do you mean rich?”

Sammy smirks. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

He stretches his arms above his head like he’s completely unbothered while I sit here trying to figure him out.

“Well,” he says lazily, “first, you’d need billions just to get a seat at the table.”

I stare at him. “Billions?”

He nods, lips twitching.

“And money alone isn’t enough. You need resources. You need something that can be leveraged. That’s how business works.”

“Resources like what?”

“Mines.” His eyes gleam. “Mineral rights. Oil, depending on the market.”

I still, my heart pounding. “And you have those things?”

Sammy gives me a slow, knowing grin, like he’s been waiting for me to catch up.

“Yeah, Pixie. I do.”

My stomach tightens. There is more to my husband than meets the eye.

Sexy, protective soldier Sammy? I know him.

But ruthless, cunning tycoon Sammy? I’m just meeting him.

And the worst part? I’m completely captivated.

“See,” he says, shifting closer, “my mother’s family was old money. Her first husband? A fucking piece of shit. He married her to get his hands on her father’s company— Maxwell Mining .” His expression darkens, voice dropping to a low growl.

“Sammy,” I whisper, my hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his muscles tighten beneath my touch. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I want to.”

He inhales deeply, and for a moment, I swear I see ghosts in his eyes.

“My mom’s ex? He’s not my father. I don’t even remember him. Andres Ramirez is my dad. Mom didn’t even know what that other prick was capable of. She risked her life for me.”

His voice is rough, uneven, like the words are scraping his throat as he forces them out.

My stomach drops. I had no idea. Not about any of this, and my heart constricts inside my chest.

“He only married her to take her inheritance,” he continues, eyes flickering with something lethal. “And after her father died, he tried to tear it from her hands. Terrorized her.”

My chest aches, a lump forming in my throat. “Oh, Sammy. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be sad. There’s a happy ending. See, when she met Dad he fell head over heels,” he murmurs. “Married her. Protected her. Adopted me. Taught me what a real man is.”

I bite my lip, feeling the weight of his words.

“He’s the best man I know,” Sammy says, his voice tight, like it’s not up for debate. “And when I turned eighteen, I found out exactly what he did for me.”

I hold my breath. “What did he do?”

“He saved Maxwell Mining. Grew it into something massive. Made sure it would always be mine.” His jaw flexes.

“It was worth billions by then, and when I came of age, I decided to merge it with Volkov Industries.”

My eyes widen.

He sees my expression and smirks. “Don’t look so surprised, Pixie. I thought you’d know by now, I don’t do anything half-assed.”

I shake my head, exhaling slowly. “I just, I didn’t know. Not about this.”

He chuckles. “You knew me as the guy who carried a gun and played hero overseas. Not the guy who builds empires.”

I swallow, heat curling in my belly.

“You didn’t play hero, Sammy. I’ve seen your scars. You are a hero.”

“No one is a hero when it comes to war, Pixie. Everybody loses,” he whispers, and I swear I see vulnerability there that makes me fall just a little harder for him.

He’s so many things. This man of mine is simply everything.

“I’m sure you're right, but warrior or businessman, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

And really, fuck if I don’t like both versions of him.

“Anyway,” he continues, stretching an arm behind his head, watching me like a predator. “That’s why I’m on the board. That’s why I backed your app.”

My pulse skitters.

“And you didn’t do it just to get into my pants?” I tease, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

His gaze darkens.

“I didn’t have to, Pixie.” He smirks. “That was always going to happen.”

I laugh, but then I sigh, my smile fading.

“You still lied to me.”

His grin vanishes.

“I didn’t lie.”

I raise an eyebrow.

He grits his teeth. “Fine. I lied by omission.”

“Which is still lying.”

“Shit.” He rubs his jaw, looking exasperated. Then he exhales hard, gripping my chin, tilting my face to his.

“Never again, Pixie. No secrets between us.”

I nod, my heart hammering. “No secrets?”

His lips brush against mine, his voice rough with emotion.

“None.”

And that’s when I finally ask.

“Why did you marry me, Sammy? I want a real answer.”

His fingers tighten around my jaw. “Don’t you know?”

I shake my head, suddenly terrified of the answer.

He leans in, his mouth a breath away.

“Because I can’t imagine a world where you and me don’t end up together. I’ve been wishing for this. Working for it. Since you were barely out of high school. I love you, Aella Ramirez.”

Tears well in my eyes.

“You love me?” I whisper.

His lips curl, his voice raw and unflinching.

“I’m completely crazy for you, you silly woman.” He kisses me slow and deep, like he’s trying to sear the words into my soul. “Can’t you tell?”

I laugh-sob, melting into him.

And just like that, I know—I’m completely his.

Forever.

He is gazing at me with such adoration, I could drown in him.

And maybe I already have.

I need to say it back. I mean, I should say it back.

But then he’s kissing me in earnest, pulling me up his big, hard body so I’m straddling him and all coherent thought leaves my brain.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell him I love him too.