“Yes, well you seem to have an issue right now,” I point out.
“An issue I should be getting you to fix,” He growls.
“You started it, Malakai,” I flick back my hair, “I just finished it.”
“You forget,” He lets out a breath, adjusting himself again, “I have a whole, unrestrained day with you to claim, and I don’t forget things, Olivia.”
“I’m terrified,” I deadpan.
He glares at me and then mutters, more to himself than to me, “She’s trying to fucking kill me.”
Chapter Forty-one
Olivia in that dress…
I can barely focus. Barely think.
This is a woman I’ll go to war for.
I’d burn the whole world for her, die for her,livefor her.
I’ll give her everything she could ever want and more just for a moment with her.
Now my cock is down, thank fuck, I climb from the car, seeing her waiting for me. Seeing her, even after only a few minutes apart, hits me like a truck. Fuck me, she’s so damn pretty.
The glow from the hotel windows lights up one side of her body, giving her a golden aura. My breath is stolen as I take her in, the dress, the hair, the makeup…
She’s a queen.
A goddess.
And I’m ready to get on my knees to worship at her altar.
I pull her to me the moment I’m close enough, crowding her with my warmth to chase away the chill. My lips press to her head before I steer her toward the doors. Cameras start to flash, and while we were using this night as our first official public appearance as a married couple, I don’t want her uncomfortable, so I protect her with my body. The articles weren’t kind to her the first time, and I already have a list of names to visit.
She’ll never be embarrassed again. Not with me.
I get her into the hotel, already packed with guests. The staff buzz through the crowds, serving drinks and food on silver platters. The city mayor is here, the chief of police, and every other important figure that has sway in this city. It’s an event for the rich and powerful, a night to let loose a little without the need to donate or give, save for the thirty-minute auction taking place later this evening.
Nonetheless, it’s still political.
A steppingstone, no matter how you look at it.
A red carpet is laid out leading into the ballroom where the event itself is taking place.
The Lauder hotel is stuffy, I’ve always thought it. It’s classic wealth, with burgundy and gold, everything added to make it look like money was spent but it feels as if the walls are closing in. The building itself is beautiful but inside… gaudy.
But this room? The one Olivia took over and planned in a week?
Stunning.
Black silk, gothic touches, candlelight, and roses.
It’s all tied together one way or another, from the people donned in designer clothing in red, black or white, to the slight glittery shimmer splashed through the black in the room.
“You did this?” I say close to Olivia’s ear.
“I did. Do you like it?”
