“I understand exactly what it is,” I whispered. “It’s a blood oath disguised as a wedding vow.”
“Then choose.” His voice was steel now.
For a heartbeat, I sat there, studying his face—the man who had stalked me, saved me, taken me.
There would be no going back from this.
But the thing was… I didn’t want to go back.
I wantedhim.
“I choose you,” I said. “My life. My body. My soul. They’re yours—if you dare take them.”
His jaw flexed. His eyes burned.
And in that moment, I sealed my fate.
Nik brushed his thumb across his lip contemplatively.
Then, with the push of a button, he gave the order: “Club Xyst.”
The car shifted into gear and turned south.
My pulse, a nervous metronome, tapped against my ribs.
Within a few minutes, we pulled up in front of one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.
Slade opened the door before the car had fully stopped. I recognized him from earlier, when he’d come to the penthouse with Aria.
Nik stepped out first, then turned, reaching for me. “Come.”
I took his hand. My heels hit the sidewalk, and instantly, flashes erupted. Reporters shouted over each other, and people strained to catch a glimpse of us.
The icy wind caught my coat, sending it fluttering behind me as we moved through the grand stone arch of the portico. I hadn’t even gotten a full glimpse of the ornate entrance of Club Xyst when someone took my coat. Someone else tried to speak to Nik, but in the next moment, his hand was at the small of my back, and he was swiftly guiding me forward as though we were slipping through a current of humanity.
We didn’t slow down.
Nik’s hand never left me as we strode across the dance floor, moved past a section of tables, and stepped onto the stairs. I had to focus on every single stride just to keep up with him. My heels threatened to snag my dress. Stunning as it was, it wasn’t made for sprinting. But somehow, we glided through the throng unscathed.
Everything about Club Xyst surprised me.
It wasn’t flashy or chaotic like The Sacrifice. It was lavish. We were surrounded by old-world elegance built from money and power. Everywhere I looked, I saw polished wood and warm brass. Cut-crystal sconces. There was nothing cheap here. Every inch of this club was thoughtfully curated.
As we moved up to the next floor, I swore I saw Damian Jasper fromToxic Romancestanding near the private bar, sipping something amber and neat.
I must’ve smiled and nodded at a hundred people—maybe even said something to a few of them, but I couldn’t remember.
It was like my body was on stage, hitting all the right marks, while my mind was still back in the car, wrapped around the wordsYou’ll be my wife.
With every step we took, the crowd shifted, allowing us through, as if Nik were Moses parting the Red Sea.
People stared at me—reallystared—as if I was someone worth knowing. A VIP. The entire experience was surreal.
Nik tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me closer as if sensing my unease.
“The main floor is for patrons with reservations,” he said, his lips close to my ear. “Below is a casino for members only. The two floors overlooking the main area are also for members, with tables and private rooms. Then there are a couple more floors for staff and storage. There’s a kitchen that serves only by prearrangement, but the casino offers hors d’oeuvres. The top floor houses our offices and private meeting spaces.” He gestured around as we continued making our way through.
It was the most he’d spoken since I’d said I would marry him.
