Page 143 of Vow to Claim You

“Aric—”

“The gala will be perfect.” His hands slide to my hips. “You will be perfect. And if anything goes wrong, I will personally ensure it’s handled before you even notice.”

“That’s… actually very reassuring.”

“Good.” He pulls me closer. “Now stop thinking about vegetarian options and come to bed.” He leans to my ear and whisper-growls, grazing the shell of my ear, which sends shivers through my body. “Let me take that tension away from you.” He pulls my earlobe between his teeth. “With my tongue.”

Well, that’s an offer I can’t resist.

Seems like the caterer gets their confirmation the following morning after all.

Saturday arrives. I wake before dawn—too anxious to sleep, too wired to lie still—and spend the early hours going over timelines and backup plans and all the things that could go wrong but hopefully won’t.

By noon, the house is a hive. Staff everywhere. Deliveries arriving in waves. The ballroom getting its final touches.

By three, the first of the Gods begin to arrive—those traveling from far, Monaco and Korea and Mexico, who need time to settle before the evening starts.

By five, I’m in the primary suite being transformed. Hair parted clean down the middle, falling in a sleek black curtain down my back. Then makeup—warm brown shadow and a satin nude lip. And finally, the dress. Champagne silk, off the shoulder, the neckline baring my collarbones while pleated chiffon wraps my arms in soft, cloudlike folds. Pearls at my ears. Nude satin heels.

I stare at my reflection.

Mrs. Vold. That’s who’s looking back at me.

Not Princess Ayanna. Not the girl who signed a contract and braced for a lifetime of being miserable.

Someone new. Someone who built something out of nothing.

I take a breath and go to find my husband, hoping the evening remembers its script.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Ayanna

The dress moves with me as I make my way down the corridor toward Aric’s office. My heels click a steady rhythm. My heart beats a less steady one.

The office door is ajar, and I hear voices inside. Aric’s low murmur, Tassilo’s clipped responses, and someone else I don’t recognize discussing something about perimeter security and access points.

Business as usual, even on a night like this.

I push the door open without knocking. Three heads turn toward me. Tassilo goes still. The other man—one of Aric’s security team, I think, though I haven’t learned all their names yet—actually takes a step back, like the sight of me has physically moved him.

And Aric stops mid-sentence.

His eyes sweep over me, traveling down, down, down, taking in every inch of the dress that took three fittings to perfect. The silk hugging my curves. The neckline that reveals just enough. When his gaze finally returns to my face, there’s something in it I’ve come to recognize. Something hungry.

“Leave.”

The word is directed at his men, but his eyes don’t move from mine.

Tassilo doesn’t hesitate. Neither does the other man. They’re out the door in seconds, pulling it closed behind them with a soft click. And then it’s just us.

“You look—” Aric starts.

“Don’t.” I hold up a hand, fighting back a smile. “If you say something nice, I’ll know you want something.”

“I always want something when it comes to you.”

“Charming.”