Wear this. We’re celebrating. Zed. Berlin touched the fabric with trembling fingers. It was impossibly soft, impossibly beautiful.
There was more. On her vanity sat several velvet boxes she hadn’t noticed before. She opened them one by one, her breath catching with each reveal.
Gold heels with burgundy accents and tiny rubies along the straps. A delicate bracelet studded with diamonds that caught the morning light.
Earrings that dangled like captured starlight. And a necklace, a simple gold chain with a pendant shaped like a key.
Another note was tucked beneath it. The key to every door in this house. It’s yours now.
All of it. Zed. Berlin pressed her hand to her mouth, overwhelmed. This wasn’t just a gift.
This was a declaration. She got dressed with shaking hands. The gown fit like it had been made for her body, hugging her curves, making her brown skin glow against the rich burgundy.
She put on the jewelry, styled her hair in soft waves, and clasped the key pendant around her neck.
Her own golden locket was still with Naen. But somehow this key felt like a different kind of promise.
When she finally looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. She looked like someone who mattered.
She looked like someone who was loved. The terrace was bathed in golden morning light.
White linen covered an elegant table set for two. Fresh flowers, roses, and orchids, and something exotic Berlin couldn’t name.
Cascaded from crystal vases. Silver domes covered dishes that smelled incredible. Champagne chilled in a bucket of ice.
But Berlin barely noticed any of it. Because standing at the terrace railing, his back to her was Zire, not in his wheelchair, not leaning on his cane.
Standing tall and powerful in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
The morning sun caught the sharp angles of his jaw. The strong line of his profile, the way his dark skin seemed to glow with health and vitality.
His hair, once curly and messy, was now sllicked back in a short ponytail. He must have heard her footsteps because he turned.
And Berlin forgot how to breathe. She had always known Zire was handsome, even angry and bitter and confined to a wheelchair.
His looks had been impossible to ignore. But standing here now, dressed like he owned the world, which she supposed he partly did, he was devastating.
His dark eyes traveled over her slowly, taking in the dress, the jewelry, the way the burgundy silk draped over her curves, the key pendant resting against her collarbone.
Something flickered in his expression, something hot and hungry that made Berlin’s knees weak. “You wore it,” he said.
His voice was deeper than usual, rougher, like he was fighting to control something. You bought it, Berlin managed.
All of it. This must have cost a fortune. I have a fortune. He walked toward her, each step measured, predatory, controlled, and I plan to spend every cent of it spoiling you.
Berlin’s heart raced as he drew closer. Zire, you don’t have to. I know I don’t have to.
He stopped directly in front of her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne.
Dark, masculine, intoxicating. Close enough that she could see the flexcks of gold in his dark eyes.
Close enough that if she rose on her tiptoes, she could kiss him. “I want to,” he continued, his voice dropping lower.
“For the first time in years, I want something for myself. And what I want is to give you everything.
Berlin’s breath caught. Everything? Everything. His hand rose to trace the key pendant at her throat.
His fingers brushed her collarbone and electricity shot through her entire body. This house, this fortune, this life, it’s all yours now, Berlin.
The sound of her real name on his lips made her shiver. I don’t need all that, she whispered.
I just need you. Something cracked open in Zire’s expression. The careful control he always maintained slipped just for a moment, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath.
You have me, he said roughly, completely, irrevocably, for as long as you want me.
What if I want you forever? Zire’s answer was a kiss. Not gentle, not tentative, consuming.
His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head back. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath.
Berlin grabbed the lapels of his suit. Pulling him closer, desperate for more. When they finally broke apart, both gasping, Zire pressed his forehead against hers.
“Forever it is,” he murmured. Berlin laughed, giddy and breathless. “We should probably eat breakfast before it gets cold.”
Probably. But he didn’t move. His hands stayed tangled in her hair. His eyes stayed locked on hers.
Or we could skip breakfast entirely. Heat flooded Berlin’s cheeks. Zire. He laughed. A real genuine laugh that transformed his entire face and finally released her.
Fine. Breakfast first. He pulled out her chair with exaggerated formality. But I’m not making any promises about lunch.
Berlin sat down, her heart still racing, her skin still tingling everywhere he had touched.
This was real. This was actually happening. She was falling in love with her husband.
And for once in her life, someone was falling right back. They ate breakfast slowly, savoring every moment.
