She doesn't move to take it, just stares as if the box might bite.
"The surprise kind of loses its effect if you don't actually open it," I tease, stepping closer and placing it in her palm. "It's just a gift, Violet. Promise."
"You don't need to give me gifts," she says softly, fingers closing around the box.
"I know I don't need to. I want to." I nudge her gently. "Open it for me, gorgeous?"
With careful fingers, she lifts the lid. Her sharp intake of breath tells me everything I need to know. Inside lies a delicate gold chain with a single, perfect, pearl pendant—elegant enough for formal events, subtle enough for everyday wear, and perfectly suited to complement her beautiful russet skin.
"William," she breathes, lifting it gently from its velvet nest. "It's beautiful."
"Turn it over," I urge, suddenly nervous.
She does, examining the back of the pendant where I had the jeweler engrave a simple message. For a moment, her face remains perfectly still. Then her lips twitch, and suddenly, she's laughing—a full, throaty sound that fills the room.
"For real?" she manages between laughs, eyes dancing with amusement.
I grin, relieved and delighted by her reaction. "What? Can't I say I'm yours, and you're mine?"
"'I'm yours, Violet. Your Will,'" she reads aloud, shaking her head. "That's quite the unique engraving."
"That's the point," I defend, moving closer again. "Anyone can do 'I love you' or initials or whatever. This is... us."
Her expression softens, laughter fading into something warmer, deeper. "Yes," she agrees quietly. "It is."
I take the necklace from her fingers. "May I?"
She nods, turning to present her back to me. I step close, bringing the chain around her neck, my fingers brushing against her skin as I work the clasp. It's a simple action, but somehowdeeply intimate—this silent permission to adorn her, to give her something she'll carry with her even when we're apart.
Once secured, I can't resist pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, just below where the chain rests. "Beautiful," I murmur against her skin. "Downright beautiful."
She turns in my arms, the pearl now resting perfectly against her collarbone. I trace it with my finger, then look into her eyes.
"And mine," I add softly before pulling her close again, claiming her lips in a kiss that communicates everything words fail to.
Against my mouth, she smiles. "Possessive much?"
"Only with things that matter," I whisper, drawing her deeper into the embrace. "You, especially. But if it counts for something… I’ve been yours since the start."
Chapter 43
I've got you
Violet
The Abu Dhabi night sky stretches endless and diamond-studded above me, a perfect backdrop to the thoughts tumbling through my exhausted mind. Fifth and tenth in the Driver's Championship. Fourth in Constructors'. Numbers that would have seemed impossible when I took over Colton Racing. Numbers that felt like fantasy after Monaco, when William lay in that hospital bed.
We still have the investigation about his accident underway, the FIA is stalling things, and Belforte is doing his best to find anything to help us after things 'couldn’t be found' from the car’s wreck. But with every day that passes, it seems it’ll get more difficult to understand if there was tampering, or if I’m certain Dominic was behind it.
I curl deeper into the plush outdoor sofa on this hotel’s rooftop lounge where all teams gathered to celebrate the end of the season, letting my body sink into the cushions as I replay today's race in my head—William's P4 finish, just shy of the podium,EJ's impressive P6. Not bad for a team everyone had written off as dead last year.
The wind carries snippets of laughter and music from the party two floors below. I should be there, shaking hands, accepting congratulations, playing the part of the triumphant Team Principal after an impressive season despite it all. But after the media commitments, my social battery hit zero. So here I am, hiding on a terrace bar while the F1 world celebrates without me.
I take a sip from my neglected glass of sparkling water. The cool night air feels too good against my skin after a day spent baking under the Abu Dhabi sun. The stars too bright to exchange for artificial lighting.
Our season wasn't perfect—far from it. The American leg proved brutal, one to forget with William's DNFs in Austin after a suspension failure, and Mexico due to a puncture on lap 1, and EJ's disastrous qualifying in Las Vegas that left him fighting through the field for scraps. But there were moments of pure magic, too. William's victory in Monza. EJ's pole position. Felix stepping in seamlessly as our reserve driver and securing points when we needed them most.
The sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I don't need to turn to know who it is—his presence announces itself in the subtle shift of the atmosphere, the immediate awareness my body has whenever he's near.
