Page 15 of Give It a Day (Song-Smith #1)

“Father said you and I make a perfect match. You pull me like a magnet and challenge me at almost every chance you get, which makes you an Aquarius.”

“We’ve got a winner. Want a prize, pretty boy?”

Without hesitation, I demand my prize, “Your heart, your mind, your everything.” I watch her through my peripherals as we continue walking. “I want to know every secret, every fear, every desire. I want to be your partner in every sense of the word.”

“A classic Gemini move, and so ambitiously on brand of you, Dae…wanting my secrets . I’m sure it’ll make for a big file in your study.

” While she speaks, I offer my hand to her before we descend the grand staircase, unfazed by yet another sarcastic remark from my wife’s rebellious lips.

“Anyway, isn’t that prize too risky to ask from me? ”

“I like risks.” I grin, making sure she’s walking steadily on such high heels and especially after I’ve ravished her in my study. “So, mysterious Aquarius, what’s the one thing you’ve never told anyone? The secret you guard the closest?”

“Did you really think I would spill my secrets so easily? How many people have fallen for your charming scheme that you think you can fingerblast me and ask me that so blatantly?”

Of course she’s trying to lighten the mood with her vulgar jokes.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, she’s still giggling at her own joke, but my grin melts into a small smile.

My hungry eyes stare at her lips for a moment before I lead us closer to the vineyard, hand in hand.

The faint sounds of people chattering while live music plays reach my ears.

Then she says, “I’m a very private person. It works well for my family’s line of work.”

“Evasive as expected from my wife, the water bearer.”

We reach the backdoor where a bay window presents the wedding reception in all its perfection. I expect nothing less, especially with Kaye in my hand, standing by my side, and looking perfect in a sparkling pink dress. She’ll be the center of the party, and she should be.

Kaye stares through the window, eyes calculating the way my mind does, critically looking at every detail.

Enclosed in a vast space within the estate’s vineyard, there are rows of elegantly draped tables arranged around a polished wooden dance floor.

Lit lanterns dangle from wrought-iron posts, their light casting a golden glow over the guests as they take their seats, chatting with each other, settling in.

The tables are adorned with dark red roses in ivory vases.

Every detail has been carefully curated to dazzle and impress.

It’s a spectacle befitting a union meant to symbolize power.

Turning to face Kaye, I say, “You don’t have to hide what your family does from me. We’re married because of it, to secure our families’ positions in every part of the criminal world. No one would dare defy us now.”

Her face falls, but why? My brows crease as I look into her eyes. Then she whispers, “At the cost of our freedom?” Ah, the marriage . It’s still an issue for her.

“Freedom is an illusion,” I easily say. “In our world, marriages are arranged for power, for protection.” I tighten my hold of her hand. “But with you, I don’t feel any less freedom. I’ve found you, a wife who understands the burdens we both bear.”

She thinks silently for a while and then turns to me, eyeing me the way she had looked over the reception area in front of us.

“We’ve both been in this line of work since we could walk.

” Her voice is grim. “Dae, maybe you don’t feel any less freedom now.

” She turns to fully face me. “But what will happen when you do?”

“ If that day ever comes, we’ll figure it out together.” I tip her chin gently with a fingertip, forcing her to meet my earnest eyes. “It’s not about the ties that bind us, it’s about the bonds we choose to forge.”

“So you’re saying you’re choosing to forge with me. Is that it, pretty boy?” She smiles, rather rueful, which is starting to unravel my nerves. Why must she try to make light of everything? Especially when she’s the one who brought up this topic.

My voice is firm and unyielding when I say, “We’re married now, so yes, always .”

Then I take a few seconds, looking into her eyes. They’re gorgeous. I could stare into her soul like this, and there’s something so goddamn otherworldly about that feeling, even when she’s driving me up the wall.

It feels like I shouldn’t be able to see inside her soul. The warm water I felt I was sinking into feels more like a whirlpool now.

Despite my frustration over how she keeps pulling me in and pushing me away, I find myself smiling.

I can’t help myself. This woman has me thinking of metaphors to describe how she makes me feel.

And while I’m lost in my thoughts, she’s been watching, staring at me with a sweet smile of her own, as if she doesn’t regret being in our arranged marriage.

I clear my throat as I reach for something in my pocket. Bringing out the small, black velvet box, I worry I’ll see her smile fade, and the thought drives my frustration further, more than I care to express.

Instead, she stares at the box, and her lips part in an enticing way that makes my heartbeat race. Opening the box, I show her the ring I wanted her to wear at our wedding, but she refused it then.

“How about now, Kaye?” My throat feels tight, and when she’s still silent, I try to persuade her. “Wouldn’t be very convincing of us to be husband and wife if my wife wasn’t wearing her ring.”

The ring feels heavy in my hand, though it’s light as air. A simple band, adorned with a diamond, its faint brushed finish reflecting the light. Understated but indestructible—exactly like her, like us .

“Right…” She leisurely looks up at me, and from only gazing into her eyes again, I find my zipper tightening. How are her eyes alone that alluring? “I’ll wear it then.”

I almost can’t believe my ears, but she agreed. So with steady hands, I hold her left hand in my right. And with my own left hand—where my wedding ring shines—I delicately place her ring on her finger. It’s a little thing, yet seeing her wear it makes the mansion shrink around me.

“You know, when I’m not thrashing in your arms, I can actually see it up close,” she jokes, making me chuckle wryly. Then she smiles again, raising her head to meet my eyes. “It’s an exquisite ring.”

I nod, smiling back with what I hope shows warmth toward her words, because it means the world to me to hear her so pleased. “The ring looks like it always belonged to you,” I whisper, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead before turning my attention back to the preparations outside.

Still smiling, I look at Kaye, her eyes sparkle with warmth and affection. She does that so effortlessly, while I only hope to be able to express such emotions. Warmth and affection are not feelings I’m used to. But I’m a quick study.

“Now, let’s get through this reception without any more dramatic conversations. We have guests to charm and a marriage to celebrate.”

“A Gemini calling an Aquarius dramatic ? How unoriginal.” She rolls her eyes at me, laughing softly. She’s acting like she doesn’t know what she’s been doing to me ever since my eyes landed on her at that church.

I’m falling deeper and deeper in the depths of her ever-flowing waters. How can she not know that? Am I not being clear enough? Must I really wax poetic to her, make it clear as day? But nothing about Kaye and I has been crystal clear. It’s all been blurred lines and back-and-forths.

That’s exactly why I’m falling for her so fast. It’s a gut feeling I can’t shake off. And frankly, I don’t want to, because when has my gut ever been wrong?

“Shall we?” I ask Kaye, offering her my right hand.

Her left hand, now sparkling with her wedding ring, takes my offer.

She nods, smiling effortlessly, as I lead her out into the reception, where there are hums of conversation, the low murmur of power mingling with the notes of a live chamber orchestra of around a few dozen musicians.

As the sun sets, the lanterns cast shadows dancing over the crowd of criminals, politicians, and magnates. These are not ordinary guests. Rather, they’re wolves wrapped in fitted formalwear, predators who thrive in the dark corners of the world. And now they are ours to entertain for the evening.

I glance at Kaye, and she seems so comfortable in this space, and as she said, we’ve spent our lives being around such wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Time flies by fast. For the next few hours, Kaye moves at my side like a shadow, her light pink silk dress gliding effortlessly as she smiles and greets the guests.

But her eyes, sharp as a blade, miss nothing.

Every handshake, every polite laugh—I realize it’s all part of a careful performance.

She’s good at this, better than I expected.

But then, she would be. Kaye Knight is my wife for a reason.

Clearly, my parents made good on their arrangement because my wife is a force of nature.

As dusk settles, I catch snippets of hushed conversations that stop the moment we approach.

It’s not about us as a couple. It’s about her.

“Did you hear? They say she once dismantled an entire rival operation without being seen. Ghosted in, left nothing but destruction,” someone whispers in a hush to another, who themselves add, “Rumor is…she’s the one who saved her family from bankruptcy.

Ran their entire operation from the shadows while her parents played figureheads. ”

I steal a glance at Kaye. Her smile is polite, but her eyes glimmer with a knowing sharpness.

I’m certain she heard every word, even as she pretends she didn’t.

She could silence these whispers, but she doesn’t do that either.

Let them talk. Let them wonder. It’s probably part of her tactics.

So she’s private for a variety of reasons—to let people fear her, to keep her family safe, and to keep herself safe.

But not from me, she won’t. I’ll make her keep coming apart, exposing herself to me in ways no one else could ever make her do.

After a while, Kaye spots someone and excuses herself, leaving me in the crowd for a woman whom she greets as Elle—the only person she seems to be genuinely interested in talking to. In a moment, my mother weaves her way through the crowd to speak to both Kaye and Elle.

All the while, I busy myself by continuing a conversation with a power broker whose name escapes me, but I’m hardly paying attention to anything he says since I’m eavesdropping on my wife’s conversation with my mother and that other woman.

I catch a few things—my mother insisting Kaye call her “Clo” because “Chloe is not a fitting name for me anymore,” which Mother says with a laugh.

She also divulges on how she used to be close friends with Kaye’s mother, how my mother finds it nostalgic to have a wedding like this for her old friend, Naomi’s only daughter, and how the seawater makes Kaye’s hair curl a little, same as Naomi’s.

Elle quips in here and there, especially when they ask about her, and that’s when I realize Elle’s not affiliated to the criminal world like the rest of us are.

Based on their conversation, Elle must’ve been my wife’s stylist for this reception.

I think I might have seen her around once I acquired the estate.

Usually, she’s trailing after my mother, so maybe Elle’s my mother’s stylist.

That means Kaye has befriended someone my mother hired to help her look the part of my blushing bride. But Kaye doesn’t care to know the criminals in this event. A curious thing…

My wife likes stoking the fire in rumors, not concerned about building relations with people who have power, but she befriends someone who holds none. Kaye’s certainly interesting.

I’ve heard the whispered rumors and wonder why she hasn’t taken me down.

Does she plan to? She could have fought her way out, ran away as far as she could, and burned it all down in the process.

But she didn’t. And I’m glad she didn’t, or hasn’t, because when she lets her guard down—even for a fleeting moment—it’s like catching a glimpse of something rare, something priceless.

And that’s what makes the risk of being burned, of being hurt worth it.

While I watch her laugh with her friend and my mother, I’ve decided that I’ll let her push me away just so she can pull me right back against her, however many times she wants.

I’ll prove that I’m not simply a man she’s forced to tolerate but the one she can’t live without. It’s not arrogance or power driving me. It’s certainty . Because I want her, and when I want something, nothing stops me.

She might try resisting me every step of the way, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because in the end, the greater the risk, the sweeter the reward.

My eyes never leave my wife’s form, even when she retreats into the vineyard, hiding behind rows and rows of the tall intertwining vines, with her new friend trying to catch up to her.

I make my way to the musicians and tell them to play louder. My little bird might chirp too loudly once I’m done with her.