“Your left hand is resting over my heart.”
She yanked her hand away instantly.
The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
At the signing table, Augustus approached as the judge finalized the marriage license.
“Aria Vale,” the old man acknowledged.
“Legally,” she replied. “Blackthorne in public.”
Augustus’s sharp eyes glinted. “You negotiated.”
“I read.”
“Even more dangerous.”
Damien stepped beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back. “The board vote is at noon.”
“Eager to claim your inheritance?” Augustus asked dryly.
“Eager to prevent you from handing it to a thief.”
Victor stepped up beside them, his smile widening. “Family affection remains our greatest tradition.” He reached out and took Aria’s hand before Damien could intervene, bowing slightly over her new ring. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Damien immediately pulled Aria’s hand from his uncle’s grip. “Do not touch my wife.”
Victor’s smile turned sharp. “You always were possessive, Damien. Celeste learned that lesson far too late.”
Damien went completely still.
Victor offered a mock bow and walked away toward the exit.
Aria turned to her husband. “What did he mean by that?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with today.”
“I decide what concerns me.”
“Not while we are surrounded by enemies.”
A photographer called for the family to gather beneath the courthouse seal. Damien guided Aria into position, his palm firm against her waist.
“Stay close to me,” he murmured.
“That sounded suspiciously like an order.”
“It was advice.”
“You need to work on your delivery,” Aria replied coldly.
“And you need to work on recognizing danger before it introduces itself.”
Augustus took the seat at the center. Victor stood behind his right shoulder. Damien placed Aria on the left, positioning himself as a shield between her and the old man.
“Closer, please,” the photographer instructed. “Mrs. Blackthorne, turn toward your husband.”
Aria adjusted her stance. Damien’s fingers spread wider across her hip.