I don’t give myself time to panic. I grab the lapels of his tux and pull him down, hoping to God he doesn’t stop me. And he doesn’t.
His mouth meets mine.
It’s not delicate. It’s not careful. It’s a confession. A reckless, public answer to every rumor that ever tried to turn either of us into a villain. The room erupts again — applause from some, horrified whispers from others, cameras flashing like lightning.
Anthony’s hand slides to my waist, firm, anchoring, and for half a second, he freezes like he can’t believe this is real. Then he kisses me back like he’s been starving.
When we break, my forehead rests against his for a breath, and the ballroom is still too loud, too bright, too full of witnesses.
I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
His breath is hot against my cheek. “For what?” he says, voice rough.
“For going to Aidan,” I murmur, the shame hitting hard now that the adrenaline is fading. “I only went because I was scared. I thought—if I had to leave, if I quit, I wouldn’t have money for Angela and Ava, and he offered enough that it felt like—like a lifeline.”
Anthony’s eyes squeeze shut for a second. His hand tightens on my waist. When he opens them again, there’s nothing cold in them. Just relief so sharp it looks like pain.
“I don’t care,” he says. “I don’t care where you went. You’re here.”
“I betrayed you,” I whisper, voice cracking.
“You didn’t,” he says, fierce and certain. “You panicked. You tried to survive. That’s not betrayal.”
My throat tightens. “Karen set me up,” I whisper, realization slamming in late. “That photo?—”
“I know,” he says, and the way he says it tells me he’s already planning war.
“Do you still need me to… marry you?” I ask, swallowing down my fear.
He breathes a chuckle. “You saidwanton the stage.”
“I was saving your ass.”
“It’s both,” he admits. “I need it. And I want it.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I want a proper proposal.”
Anthony’s brows lift a fraction.
“With a BIG fucking ring,” I whisper, daring him, grinning.
Something in his mouth twitches—almost a smile, almost a laugh, almost the man I’ve been missing. He leans in, lips brushing my ear so only I can hear. “You’ll get it,” he murmurs.
My breath catches. I pull back just enough to look at him, eyes burning, heart pounding, the room still buzzing like a hive around us. “And,” I add softly, because this is the only truth that matters under all the spectacle, “I meant what I said. I—I don’t know what this is, but maybe it’s?—”
Anthony’s hand slides up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek like he’s making sure I’m real, cutting me off. His gaze holds mine, fierce and steady. “You love me.”
I nod once, my eyes burning.
“Good,” he grins, just softly, like no one else is here with us. “Because I love you too.”
Chapter 30
Anthony
The boardroom smells like cold coffee and fear. Faces are arranged in careful neutrality along the table, watching me as I sit down at the head. They’re all pretending this is just governance, just procedure, just the tidy mechanics of a public company. But the tension is thick enough to taste because everyone in this room knows what the vote actually is. A public execution.
Karen sits three seats down from me, perfectly composed, legs crossed, hands folded as if she’s waiting for a fight. She’s wearing a pale suit that makes her look like she’s at church, not a board meeting. Her mouth is calm. Her eyes are sharp. Joseph Brant is across the table, watching quietly, the only one here who looks at me like a man instead of a machine. Motions are read. Language turns sterile. I let it. I wait. I watch. Karen makes her last play in the calmest voice she owns.
