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“I’ll wait until after—”
I slam a hand atop the table, tipping his goblet of water over. “Pick up that knife and fork before I shove the entire plate down your throat.”
All eyes are on his as he does what I ask, picking up the utensils and cutting into the medium-rare piece of meat. His hand trembles as he brings the small bite to his mouth and chews. There is no savoring. No appreciative noises.
Almost as if he knows…
“Can I see him now?”
“Another bite.”
“Please, I just—”
“Two more.”
Marcus nods, picking up the next piece and practically swallowing. A dry swallow at that. Then another, larger this time. When he finishes, he pushes his plate away and looks at me with hopeful eyes.
“What?” I ask, not understanding the perplexity of his expression.
“Can I see him? No more games, Malcolm.” He’s near tears. Beyond desperate. “Just let me see my son.”
“You already have. He’s been here the entire time.” I’ve never seen the world come down on a person’s head before, and the interpretation in front of me is amusing. The look in his eye—the retching that follows as the tears pour from him—it’s nothing compared to what they were willing to do to an innocent woman for monetary gain. Leaning forward, I meet his stare with a devilish grin. Neither conforming nor denying his worst nightmare. “Make of that what you will.”
“No. NO!” He shoots up from his seat, his blazing eyes set on London. “This is all your fault. I’ll kill you, bitch!”
“I pulled the trigger, too.” Twirl taunts, her grin matching mine. “My face was the last one that sick bastard saw.”
“After everything we did for you? How we took you and that cunt—” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as London shoots him square in the chest, creating a domino effect. My gun follows, as does every person inside this room. A bullet for each member, and then two more for her parents.
Marcus Foster bleeds out in my dining room, a mass of failure. A product of greed.
“Thank you,” my girl says then, pulling my attention to her gorgeous eyes. They are happy. Full of relief. “And the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.”
“It wasn’t a question, sweetheart.” Taking her hand in mine, I slip the large princess-cut diamond ring I’ve carried with me all day onto her ring finger. Where it will stay until we leave this earth. “You’re mine, and I am yours. Fated.”
“Still saying yes.” She’s admiring it. How perfectly it fits.
“Never though you wouldn’t.” I pull her out of her chair, leaving the others to receive my cleaning crew. While we celebrate out tonight with family and friends, they’ll take care of the man that’ll soon become a distant memory. Leave nothing behind like his son.
“So cocky, Mr. Asher.”
“Look at me…” she does, and whatever she sees in my expression melts her against me “…I love you.” It’s my vow. A promise. My truth. There will never be anyone else for me. No one would ever compare to the perfection in my arms.
“I love you, too.”
My lips come down on hers then, and the world fades away. Her taste overtakes my senses, and I let her. She’s the only person in this world with the power to destroy me, and yet, I know that my home will always be at her temple.
My tiny dancer.
Epilogue #1
Six months later…
“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL, cousin. The bracelet from Grandma Isadora looks perfect,” Aurora says from behind me as I stand in front of the mirror adjusting the Swarovski tiara Malcolm insists I wear. He didn’t want a veil or anything to cover my face because his queen never hides. Even this dress; with the sweetheart neckline and mermaid-style bodice in lace—how the bottom curves over my behind, accentuating one of his favorite places to grab—was bought with him in mind.
To please him. See his eyes shine with hunger as he takes me in.
That man. Christ.
