"I never exaggerate. Especially about threats to what's mine."
Her eyes widen. "I'm not yours, Christian."
"Aren't you?" I counter, letting my gaze drop deliberately to her lips. "You're wearing a dress I bought. You're in my car. You're attending my event. For tonight, at least, you are very much mine."
I watch the conflict play across her face—indignation warring with something darker, something she's not ready to acknowledge. Her breath comes quicker, her pupils dilating slightly.
"That's very…possessive of you," she finally says, her voice carefully measured.
"I'm a possessive man." I make no apology for it. "I protect what's mine, Sophie. Remember that when you're tempted to wander off tonight."
"Or what?" A hint of defiance creeps into her voice. "You'll throw me over your shoulder and carry me out?"
The image sends a jolt of heat through me. "If necessary."
She stares at me, clearly trying to determine if I'm serious. I hold her gaze, letting her see that I am entirely serious.
"You can't just…control people like that," she says, but the protest sounds weak even to my ears.
"I control everything in my world," I tell her simply. "It's how I've survived. It's how I've succeeded where others have failed."
Something in my tone must reveal more than intended, because her expression shifts, curiosity replacing defiance.
"What happened to you?" she asks softly, the unexpected personal question catching me off guard.
I feel my jaw tighten reflexively. No one asks me about my past. No one dares. Yet here is this small-town shopkeeper, looking at me with genuine concern rather than the fear or deference I'm accustomed to.
"Nothing relevant to tonight," I answer, my tone making it clear the subject is closed.
She doesn't push, but I can see the question lingering in her eyes. It unsettles me. I'm not accustomed to being read so easily.
The Bentley slows as we approach the Grand Summit Hotel, its façade lit with thousands of white lights for the holiday season. The circular drive is already crowded with luxury vehicles disgorging the city's elite in their finest attire.
"We're here," I say, unnecessarily.
Sophie's nervousness returns, visible in the tightening of her shoulders beneath the cashmere coat. I place my hand over herswhere it rests on the seat between us. She startles at the contact, her eyes flying to mine.
"Stay close to me," I say again, my thumb brushing once across her knuckles. "I won't let anything happen to you."
The car stops. Outside, a valet opens the door, letting in a gust of cold air and the sound of distant orchestra music.
"Ready?" I ask, though it's not really a question.
Sophie takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and nods once.
"As I'll ever be."
As I help her from the car, I'm already calculating how many people I'll need to warn off by the end of the night. How many men will look at her the way I do.
And how completely I'll make it clear that Sophie Winters is spoken for.
The Grand Summit Hotel rises before us like a glittering ice palace, its façade a cascade of white lights and gleaming marble. Valets in crimson uniforms rush to open doors for guests emerging from vehicles that cost more than most people's homes. I feel Sophie tense beside me as the door opens, the full spectacle of my world hitting her all at once—the opulence, the excess, the sheer concentrated power of wealth. This is where I belong. And tonight, where she belongs too.
I step out first, buttoning my jacket with practiced ease, then extend my hand to help her emerge. The moment she rises from the car, something shifts in my chest—a possessive pride I haven't felt before. The emerald of her dress catches the golden light spilling from the hotel entrance, making her glow against the darkness. She looks ethereal, otherworldly—and mine.
She places her hand in mine, her fingers cool and slightly trembling. I tighten my grip, steadying her as she finds her footing on the plush red carpet leading to the entrance. The snow has stopped, but the air remains crisp, turning her breath to delicate clouds that dissipate between us.
"All these people," she murmurs, taking in the crowd of Evergreen's and the surrounding cities' elite. Women dripping in diamonds, men in custom tuxedos, all of them exuding the casual arrogance of those who never check price tags.
