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I drop to my knees on the grass in front of her. Until now, nothing has given away my surprise. We’re both used to me on my knees in front of her.
“I love you.” I’ll keep saying those three words until she tires of them. I hope she never will.
I prepared a whole speech, but forgot everything as I pluck the box from my pocket and open the lid. Violet’s eyes widen, and she covers her mouth.
“Will you marry me?”
“But we’re already married.”
“Then we’ll get married again. I want to marry you every year.”
She jumps into my arms, and I tumble back as she straddles me.
“You still haven’t answered me.” I grin, knowing her answer.
“Yes. Oh my God, yes.”
I slip the other one off her finger, the one Lauren picked, and replace it with the ring I had specially ordered for her. The pear-shaped, six-carat purple diamond sits on a platinum band of smaller black diamonds. She looks at it and then at me with pure fascination. This ring symbolizes what she means to me: a violet spark in my darkness, the light guiding me back to her—home.
“It’s beautiful.”
I carry her in my arms, ready to celebrate her acceptance with me buried inside her.
Once we’re in bed and naked, she goes up on her elbows, biting her lip. “I love when you make love to me, but I can take your hard fucking as well.”
I chuckle. How did I get so lucky?
***
I force myself not to touch her when we’re in the car. She looks spectacular in a floor-length silk dress with a high slit, a sweeping train, and a sleeveless bodice with a draped neckline. The salmon-colored dress has spaghetti straps and she’s wearing gold heeled sandals. The light curls of her hair falling over her exposed neck have me wanting to maul her.
Tonight’s gala unfolds at an exclusive hotel downtown. When we arrive, the crowd applauds. The celebration has begun, and even though it’s not official yet, everyone expects me to be the next senator for Massachusetts.
Violet’s hand rests on my chest as I introduce her. She smiles politely, shakes hands, and does a fabulous job of small talk.
Plucking two glasses of champagne from a passing tray, we move to greet her parents. Participating little in the conversation, I simply nod, entranced by her. I sweep her over to the dance floor, and everything in my world is fantastic. Until she looks over my shoulder, and her eyes widen, panic transforming her face. She shoves me to the side with a force I would have never thought she had in her. When I get a grip on what happened, my world shatters. Blood oozes from her chest, darkening the material in a grotesque contrast. I catch her as she falls.
Chaos erupts, the cries of terror piercing my eardrums. My ears ring with the wild pounding of my heart as my men rush in every direction.
I cradle her face. Blood pours from her midsection and I press on the wound. Her mother screams and cries as she drops next to her. Her father takes her hand while she looks at me peacefully, as if she didn’t just take a bullet for me.
“I—”
“Stop talking,” I say, swallowing back the terror clutching my lungs.
I carry her out, ignoring everyone’s advice not to move her, and hurry to the car. One of my men opens the back door while another drives us at full speed to the hospital.
I hold Violet to my chest, kissing her neck. Her pulse is too weak. Blood drenches her dress, and her face loses more color by the second.
“Hold on. Don’t you fucking leave me.”
With shaking fingers coated in red, I dial Alessandra.
“I’ve already scheduled an OR,” she says. “Hayden just told me the compound was attacked as well.”
“Alessandra...” My voice breaks. If I lose Violet, there will be nothing left of me.
“I will do my best, do you hear me?”
