I’d ended her life in this place.
And yet she’d come back to life here, too.
A year ago, I’d come to steal her from the limelight and prevent anyone from enjoying her creations. Now, I shared her with those who valued her skills and fought each other for the prestige of wearing her art.
All around us stood the models from tonight’s show. The Rainbow Diamond collection truly was spectacular. Pastels, pinks, purples, teals,yellows—an array of fabrics Nila had educated me on and cuts and gathers and fancy needlepoint she’d explained every time she worked.
Standing beside her, I couldn’t for the life of me remember a single stitch’s name. All I could remember was how much I loved her and how stunning she was in a gown made of bewitching smoke.
Obviously, it wasn’t smoke but silk and tulle and any number of materials she forced me to recall. But the panels of midnight down her tiny waist and the glitter of black beads down the front made her the crown of the show, the black diamond of her empire.
Every time she swished in front of me, I wanted to throw my tuxedo jacket over her shoulders to hide the scrumptious line of her spine and the swell of her arse below.
I appreciated the skill and design of the dress, but I didn’t appreciate the way men gawked at my wife.
One of the boutique shops that’d already bid at auction and won Nila’s new collection climbed on the stage and presented her with a bouquet of white roses. The dark-skinned man kissed her cheek, smiled at me, and faced the audience to reinvigorate the clapping.
For once, I didn’t mind being in a crowd this size. Not because Nila was beside me and I’d become accustomed to tuning into her thoughts when in a gathering such as this, but because everyone had one focus: impressed awe.
Nila waved at the cameras, bowed—hiding the little wobble by digging her fingernails into my cuff—and turned to leave.
Not so fast.
I held her a second longer. I wanted to bask in the moment. I wanted to absorb every thought and feeling because tonight was special for Nila but special for me, too.
Tonight was my thirtieth birthday.
I’d made it.
Nila wasn’t beheaded, her body wasn’t rotting on the moor with her ancestors, and I wasn’t dead at the hands of my father.
We’d turned evil into benevolence and lived a life worthy of deserving.
“Come on, it’s time to go.” She tugged on my hold, swaying in her stupidly high heels.
I cupped her elbow, turning her to face me. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t keep surprises and I knew tonight she’d already planned a birthday party for me. I didn’t know where or what it would entail but I felt her excitement at surprising me and her enjoyment at celebrating such a huge milestone. A milestone we both feared would never come to pass.
However, there was something else, too.
Something she guarded and protected. Something that meant a great fucking deal to her and she hadn’t told me.
For the past couple of weeks, I thought it was the collection. The fact she’d finished the entire wardrobe of twenty three dresses and other apparel was a huge feat.
But now...now, I knew it wasn’t that because the secret still glowed bright inside her.
Nila looked once more at freedom, sensing my determination to make her tell me. I hadn’t meant to trap her on the runway and force her to spill in front of the world of fashion. But where else was she the most vulnerable?
I held her up. I kept her imbalance at bay. The least she could do was—
“I have a secret and I can’t keep it any longer.” Nila sighed, fighting a smile. Camera flashes continued to go off along with the stray rose thrown as the models paraded one last time behind us.
I let out a breath.About bloody time. “I thought as much.” Bending my knees, I stared directly into her eyes. “You’ve done a good job at hiding it from me.”
I froze as she raised her hand, brushing aside my salt and pepper hair, showing the world the utmost affection between us. We were private in that respect. After theVanity Fairarticle at our wedding, we avoided all mention and interviews.
I sucked in a breath as she cupped my neck, bringing me closer. “You haven't been able to guess?”
I shook my head, my hair mixing with hers. “No.” I let myself dive deeper into her thoughts, searching for the answer to her hoarded truth. Her emotions were murky, mixed with bone-deep contentment and a sense of quiet achievement for all that she’d done tonight.
