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“Have I told you how gorgeous you are tonight? You’ll be turning heads at the gala. We should turn this car around so I can take you home and keep you to myself.”
“How very caveman of you,” Alessandra teased.
“Bella, I’ll hoist you over my shoulder and beat my chest to claim you before laying you out on the buffet table and feasting on you.”
Drake wrapped his arm around Alessandra’s waist and pulled her closer. He fused his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave a mark. His hand trailed up her thigh, slipping inside the slit. His fingertips brushed her sensitive region through her thin, wet panties.
“Drake,” Alessandra breathed.
Drake leaned in and whispered, “You’re soaked, bella. What naughty thoughts are you thinking? We could get a room at the hotel and sneak out of the gala for a quick fuck. Then again, I know hooking up in public turns you on. We can find a quiet corner of the room and be discreet.” He kissed her bare shoulder. “If you keep biting your lip like that, I’ll take you here in the car.”
Drake moved her panties aside and stroked her bare lips, brushing against her sensitive nub. Before he could slip a digit inside her wet channel, the car stopped outside the Water Tower Place. Tuning out downtown traffic was easy with Alessandra at his side. They arrived at their destination in the blink of an eye.
Drake laughed as Alessandra slapped his hand away and quickly adjusted her skirt before the driver opened her door. She pulled the visor down and looked at her reflection. Her skin was flushed, and he quickly pushed the visor up.
“What—”
“It’s adorable when you get flustered. A young newlywed should always look like that around her husband. And if she doesn’t, he’s clearly not doing a good job.”
Placing his palm on the small of her back, he escorted her through the doors of The Ritz Carlton. They walked into the awe-inspiring ballroom with many circular tables covered in crisp white linens and Chiavari chairs. The panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows provided a dramatic evening view of the city.
Drake wondered if Alessandra felt as heated as he did, remembering their tryst in front of the windows of his penthouse. After their meal, he planned to ask his wife to dance beneath the 400,000-crystal chandelier illuminating the room with glamor and elegance.
They made their way to the head table for their seating assignment, and Drake removed an envelope from his breast pocket and placed it in the prominently-displayed donation box. A raised platform stood on one end of the room for speeches and the band to play on later.
Before dinner, there was an open bar, and the five hundred guests had time to mingle and socialize. Drake and Alessandra made their way to the bar to order a drink.
“We’ll take a glass of champagne,” Drake ordered before Alessandra had the opportunity to make a request.
He handed her a flute and held his in a toast. “To my beautiful wife and our first date.”
Alessandra’s face colored briefly before a dazzling smile stretched across her face. Drake watched with rapt attention as she sipped champagne. He swooped in for a quick kiss as she lowered the glass, tasting the effervescent liquid on her ruby-red lips.
They moved around the room arm in arm, making small talk with Chicago’s elite—including various judges, partners of law firms, the police commissioner, and many other high-society men and socialites that were in attendance.
Drake caught the glances Alessandra gave him before voicing an opinion that varied from his. She was a socialite in her own right—the daughter of Anthony Russo. And he wanted her to own her voice.
Across the room, Drake’s eyes met Jenny Nguyen’s. She used to be respectable until becoming entangled with the Russos. Her searing gaze fell to his arm wrapped around Alessandra.
Jenny made her way through the crowd. “Isn’t this quite a development? Here I was under the impression that you were filing for divorce.” Alessandra flinched when Jenny touched her.
“I didn’t sign the papers,” Drake growled. “We’re giving our marriage a real shot.”
“Is that so?” The woman’s eyes narrowed, and a cat-like grin spread over her face.
“Drake’s mistaken. We’ll be moving forward with the divorce. We’ll file as soon as he’s ready. You know how lawyers are. He needs to ensure all the t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted.”
Drake’s jaw clenched painfully, and his grip around Alessandra tightened. There was no way in hell he was letting her go. She was always his, and she would come to understand that soon.
“We’ve discussed this already, Alessandra. We are not filing for divorce. That’s the end of it!” he snapped.
“Well, I should let you lovebirds continue to make the rounds. Do say hello to Jerry for me!” Jenny smirked and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she turned.
Drake jerked Alessandra away from Jenny. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and pull back the palpable waves of anger. Alessandra remained quiet as they moved to find their seats.
“There’s my favorite married couple. My husband and I are at the same table.” Drake’s mentor and friend, Judge Jerry Matthews, greeted the couple. “Mrs. Walker, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Noah. Noah, this is Alessandra.”
There was a seventeen-year age difference between the interracial couple. Jerry was a virile black man in his late forties whose hair had started to gray, while Noah was tall and lanky with dark blond hair and a trimmed beard. He was younger than Drake—just shy of thirty but looked barely older than Alessandra.
