Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“About damn time!” Rafe shouts, throwing his hands in the air. Seraphina smacks his chest and rolls his eyes.
“Not sure how you got the girl, but she’s way above your pay grade!” Dante yells through a whistle, making the rest of the group burst into laughter. Dom pulls back just enough to look down at me. His chest rises and falls against mine as a rare brilliant grin stretches across his face. He ignores his friends’ teasing. His arm wraps securely around my waist, holding me flush to his side as we turn to face our favorite people.
I look out at my mom. She’s clapping through tears. My friends, who have been by my side through every single step of this wild journey. They still don’t know about the contract, and they never will. That’s ancient history. The corporate strategy and marriage of convenience are a thing of the past. This is real, it’s loud, and it’s absolutely ours.
“I love you, Cory.” Dom bends to whisper in my ear.
“I love you, too, Dom. So very much.” I look into his eyes and see my whole world inside them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
dom
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Rafe asks, stepping beside me and propping an elbow on the bar. He swirls his own drink, a lazy, satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he looks out over the crowd. “You’ve got the girl, your money is where you can see it, and the board is off your back.”
We, no, there’s no we about this. Cory put her foot down and wanted our reception here, in our home, with our friends and family, mainly her mom, since I don’t talk too much to my parents anymore. They also retired to Florida, of all places, where you’re most likely to develop swamp ass with the humidity down there than a permanent sunburn.
Now everyone is in our home after the wedding, and the one contingency was that we’d do the whole nine yards—fully catered with gourmet food, an open bar overflowing with top-tier liquor, a wedding cake sitting as a centerpiece on the marble kitchen island. There’s even a photographer capturing candid moments, this was after we took more than I thought possible at the courthouse. Cory had a look in mind, vintage with something or other. I posed where I was needed, and when she looked at me over her shoulder, eyes darkening with desire, giving me a teasing smile in one instance, I nearly called the whole thing off, tossed her over my shoulder, and took her on the nearest available surface. As it stands now, I’ve yet to have my wife, and I’m nearly at my breaking point.
“Fuck yeah, it does. The board was never going to win, Rafe.” I let out a low rumble of agreement, my eyes scanning the room until they find the one person who matters.
“True, but you’re definitely going to need those billions with how much you like to spend on your wife.” He shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve taken up a real habit of spoiling her lately, man. A brand-new car, the dress today, the pink diamond jewelry that could rival royalty. You’re making me look bad. I’m going to have to up my game with Sera.” He’s got no room to talk. He’s just as bad, if not worse, with Seraphina, though she’s more into the designer brands and shoes, and from what Cory tells me, she’s given something new nearly every week.
“She’s impossible to give gifts to,” I mutter, taking a sip of my drink. Every item I’ve given her comes with some type of pushback.
“Aren’t they all,” he agrees. “Sera looks like she has an existential crisis every time a new box shows up.” His wife is a lot like Cory, stubborn with an independent streak that makes her fight me every single time, but damn, the making up makes it worth it. She doesn’t want the luxury. Cory only wants the security and safety I proved her. But seeing her wrapped in the clothes I’ve bought her, knowing she’s driving a vehicle that I don’t have to worry about breaking down on her during late-night commutes from the hospital is an absolute necessity. I’d buy her the entire damn city if she let me.
My eyes drift back to my wife. She’s standing near the open glass doors leading out to the balcony. Her cream-colored vintage gown glows under the lighting. She’s deep in conversation with Romy. My instincts pick up on the shift in the room’s atmosphere. Cory’s brow is furrowed, her hand resting gently on her friend’s arm. Suddenly, Romy turns her head away, shoulders stiffening as she looks off and toward the dark Seattle skyline.
Even from across the crowded room, I can see the telltale shimmer in her eyes. She looks like she’s hiding more than tears when her lower lip trembles before she quickly wipes her face, trying to mask the sudden burst of emotion.