Page 100 of Knox's Boy

The fitting suite atKlein & Sonssmelled of old money. It was quiet. The type of quiet that usually required a membership to access. I stood on a circular velvet pedestal, surrounded by three walls of mirrors that threw my reflection back at me from every angle. I looked... expensive. The fabric of the tuxedo jacket was midnight-black.

Knox sat in a leather armchair a few feet away, one leg crossed over the other, watching me with the intensity of a predator contemplating a particularly satisfying meal. He hadn’t looked at his phone once since we arrived. His attention was entirely on me.

"Turn," he commanded, his voice low.

I obeyed, spinning slowly on my heel. The tailor, a small man named Mr. Henderson who moved like a frightened bird, hovered nervously with a pin cushion strapped to his wrist.

"The break on the trousers is perfect, sir," Mr. Henderson ventured.

Knox stood up, ignoring the tailor, and stepped onto the pedestal with me. He loomed in the mirror behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders.

"It is," Knox agreed, his eyes locking with mine in the glass. "But the lapels... something isn't sitting right."

He reached around, his large hands smoothing the silk facings of the jacket, his knuckles grazing my chest. I suppressed a shiver. He wasn't just adjusting a suit; he was checking his property.

"Shoulders back," he murmured, a private correction. "You're slouching, little one. Princes don't slouch."

"My back hurts from standing this straight," I complained, though I leaned back into his touch, correcting my posture immediately. "Are you sure I can't just wear jeans? I have really nice black jeans." I joked. Not that I actually would. I'd die before wearing jeans to a formal event.

Knox’s lips twitched against my temple. "If you wear jeans to my foundation’s charity ball, I will tan your hide in the coat check room."

"Promises, promises," I whispered.

Mr. Henderson cleared his throat, pretending to adjust a cufflink display, giving us a polite illusion of privacy. I giggled. It was silly.

I knew how much the Knox Foundation meant to him. It wasn't just a tax write-off; it was how he fixed parts of the worldhe couldn't control otherwise. "I'll be good. I promise. I won't eat with my hands or ask the mayor if he dyes his hair."

"The mayor does dye his hair," Knox noted, smoothing the lapels one last time. "But yes, refrain from mentioning it." I laughed. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "You look breathtaking."

I looked at myself in the mirror again. The suit fit like a second skin, accentuating the lean lines of my body, making me look taller, broader. I didn't look like the kid who slept in a shelter. I looked like I belonged to Knox.

"Hey, Daddy?" I asked, testing the waters while he was in a good mood.

"Yes?"

I fidgeted with the cuff of the pristine white shirt. "I was wondering... since it's a big party, and there's going to be a lot of people... and you’ll probably be busy shaking the hands of the president or something…"

Knox raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Can I invite Luna?" I blurted out. "As my plus-one? I mean, I know I'myourplus-one, technically, but I thought... maybe she could come? She’s never been to anything like this. And she could be next to me when you can’t."

I braced myself for a gentle refusal. It was an elite event. Tickets cost thousands of dollars. Luna had blue hair and wore combat boots to brunch.

Knox didn't even blink. "Of course."

My jaw dropped slightly. "Really? Just like that?"

"Why not?" He checked his watch, then looked back at me. "She’s your best friend. If having her there makes you happy, she is welcome." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Though, the dress code is strictly black tie. Does she have appropriate attire?"

"Um, probably not," I admitted. "She has a debate blazer."

Knox pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'll have Sarah arrange a styling appointment for her. Gown, shoes, hair, makeup. Whatever she needs. I’ll have a car sent to pick her up on the evening of the event."

I stared at him. "You’d do that? Buy her a gown and everything?"

He looked up from his screen, confusion knitting his brow. "Florian, she is important to you. That makes her my responsibility by extension.”

I laughed. I stepped down and threw my arms around his neck, disregarding Mr. Henderson entirely. "You are the best. The absolute best."