He smirks and continues. “When did I propose?”
My brows furrow. “Uh… you—” My mind flashes to him under me and I clear my throat. “Last month.”
“In the courtyard of the Isabella Gardner Museum.” My favorite museum. Does he enjoy using all my interests against me? “I didn’t kneel. I was too scared to look into your face.”
My eyes narrow. “Scared? You’ve never been scared a day in your life.”
Hayes smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised.” Taking out a small box, he holds it up. “What if you said no? I wouldn’t be able to look at your face and have all my dreams broken. So, I hugged you. Told you how utterly perfect you were—and for me. Then I gave you this.” The box opens with a loud creak and I gulp as he stares at it, unwilling to let me see.
“What the fuck is this? Hayes, we didn’t discuss this.” As I try to rage at him, the urge to see the ring grows to desperate levels. A ring? He has a ring for me?
“Relax, viper. I didn’t buy it for you.” Those blue eyes look up at me and he winks. “It’s mine.”
“Yours?”
“Well, my mother’s,” he explains softly.
My heart constricts painfully. “I can’t take that. Not if it’s your mother’s.” I know nothing about the woman—Hell, I know nothing about my fake fiancé. How can I take something so precious?
“If you want to sell it, you’ll need a ring on your finger.” He finally turns the box, slipping the heavy ring on. “Myring on your finger.”
“You’re awfully possessive.” Why do I like it so much? “Especially over a fake girlfriend.”
Hayes laughs like I told a joke. “You haven’t seen anything yet, viper.” He holds my hand up and shrugs. “What do you think?”
My brain short circuits as I take in the opulence. It’s a blue sapphire, easily six carats, with two smaller diamonds on each side. It’s the kind of ring that adorns princesses in foreign countries, not a lowly medical student who still can’t look in the mirror on her best days.
“Hayes, I—” my words die tragically in my throat. How do I describe how beautiful it is while also yelling at him for something so extravagant?
“We have to make it look real,” he explains. “And trust me. My mother would have loved to see you wear it.”
The band is solid and warm against my skin, crafted with fine details. It’s a heavy weight—not one of stifling oppression but of partnership and respect. It’s a tether to someone out there—someone who wants me and only me for the rest of our lives.
Growing up, I never saw this for myself. Who could love someone who looked like me? But with Hayes’ ring on my finger, I feel at once wanted and protected. Cherished and loved.
“Your mother isn’t around?”
He shakes his head. “No. But she’d approve.”
He drops my hand before saying, “One more thing.”
Grabbing my neck, he hauls me close, faces inches apart. My breath stalls and wide eyes take in his deceptively cool look, his causal smirk as if we’re discussing the weather.
“Now that you wear my ring, you’remine, viper.” I subconsciously inhale his breath, thinking it’ll sustain me. “My conditions still stand. No one else gets between those legs. You’re completely, utterly,mine.”
Licking my lips, I start to shake my head. “But the rules?—”
“You never set any rules.” His nose brushes mine and my knees tremble. “We can keep a five-foot barrier around us at all times. Or I can bend you over this desk until you only remember my name. All of this is whatever you want it to be.”
Gulping, I scoff. “You don’t mean that.” He can’t possibly want me like that.
“I rarely say anything I don’t mean, viper.” His thumb tenderly caresses my pulse point. “But if I find out someone else’s cock has been inside you? I will hunt them down, break every bone in their body, drink down their screams of agony, and lay their corpse at your door. It will be on your conscience. Understand?”
I do. Shuddering, my thighs press together, panties damp. I want him to raise Hell, level the world for me, to keep me his.
It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to think that way. To allow myself to give into the darkness inside my soul, put there by my father’s lessons. I want him to hurt people to keep me.
I should be revolted by it. But I’m not. This is the monster I hide in my soul.
